


Loki x Reader One Shots

by AhnakaSkyle



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 18:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 43,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19234666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AhnakaSkyle/pseuds/AhnakaSkyle
Summary: Loki x Reader One Shots!Originally posted on Wattpad.com! My username is Lupine_Phoenix, this work is MINE!Link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/154000836-loki-x-reader-one-shots





	1. Date

_“You can’t be serious,” he says, taking one look at you. He looked at you with a sort of humor and disgust. Or was it disbelief? “She’s nothing more than a child.”_

_“I’m twenty-five.” You cross your arms. “And, as much as I don’t want to be, I’m your partner. Get over it.” You sigh. “(Y/N) (L/N). Nice to meet you, I guess.” You hold out your hand to greet. He reluctantly takes it, giving it a firm shake._

_“I suppose it’s nice to meet you, too,” he mumbled._  
\---

“(Y/N). Pay attention, please,” Loki says to you.

That memory was from four years ago. You and Loki were partners, just barely scraping by as friends. He never let you do any of the dangerous work, anymore, insisting he could do it. A few months ago, he had been putting his arm around you every time you two passed you other male friends. He claimed that it was just because  you could get lost or some other dumb reason. It’s a gentleman’s job to protect the lady, he would always say. Bull.

“I am,” you protest. You blush some. You weren’t, and it was useless to argue with him about it. Why? Because he knew.

“Well, if you were, you would have known I’d just asked you what I should wear tonight.” You blush even more. Crap.

Loki blended in with humanity excellently.  He loved it, too. Dressing up and even trying new accents. Sometimes you forgot he wasn’t his undercover persona, Timothy Jones. He had his own wardrobe, using magic for ‘emergencies.’

“Oh. Right. Your date with Natasha.” You swallow. Natasha Romanoff—your best friend. You knew Loki could date anyone he wanted to, but it didn’t stop it from being weird. Or from hurting. “Um, I think that you should wear your (f/c) button up.” You give him a soft smile.

He walks over to the closet. “If I recall correctly, this is your favorite shirt.” He gives one of his signature smirks.

“You’ve been reading my mind again,” you groan. “I told you not to!”

He shrugs. “I told you not to nap on my couch. So I think we’re even.” He rolls up his sleeves about halfway up his forearm. “Tie or not?”

“Loki, I told you, you don’t have to give up your bed when I brainstorm with you. I’m fine on the couch.” You pick out an accenting tie. You talk as you fix it loosely around his neck.

“But you don’t deserve the couch.” He reached above your head and grabs a small box. You gulp. Was he proposing?

“Deal with it.” You tighten the tie. “There.” You rest your hands on his chest, not really noticing. His hands weren’t above your head anymore, but they weren’t at his sides.

He smiled at you. He rests a hand on your waist. Butterflies flutter in your stomach. “Thank you, (Y/N). What would I do without you?” He caressed your face, brushing your hair out of your forehead. You stilled, wishing he would do this all the time. That he would finally realize how you felt. He grins even wider.

And then. It hits you. He read that thought. You push his hand away from your face, pulling away from him. “Hey!” you shout. “You jerk!” You back up, face very hot.

“What? Haven’t you figured it out, already, (Y/N)?” He laughed and takes your hand. “I’ve never been dating Natasha. I’ve been teaching her new combat skills. Not court her. I’ve been trying to court  _you_.”

You shake your head. “No. No, I’m not listening to you.” Tears flooded your eyes. He knew, and now he was lying to you. You sniffled. “You shouldn’t just lie to make someone feel better, Loki!”

He shook his head. “(Y/N), why would I lie about that?” He takes your other hand and intertwined your fingers together. “How many times have I lied to you?”

You think about it some. “Almost never,” you whisper. “You’ve never lied to me if you could help it.”

He nods. “Care to give me a reason why I would start now?” He smiled softly and kissed your cheek. This was too good to be true.

He puts the box in your hands. “Open it.” He was grinning like an idiot. You bite your lip. You hoped that this wasn’t a lie, despite what he just told you.  
You slowly open the box to find a silver locket. It’s already opened up to the picture inside. You gasp and cover your mouth. It’s a picture of you and Loki. Both smiling and hugging. And you look so in love. You remembered the day you took that picture. It was at a theme park undercover. But you still had the best time of your life with him.

Next to the picture, there are four words. I love you, (Y/N). You look at him. He smiled fondly and took your hands.

“I tried dropping hints and even tried to tell you multiple times,” he says. “I knew from the first time I read your mind about your feelings. I was too much of a coward to confront mine.”

“So you lied and left me with a broken heart for six months?” you ask.  
“I said I was a coward. And I’m also an idiot.” He gave a nervous laugh. “I panicked, too. I tend to do that. Lie when I’m nervous.”

You cup his face. “You ramble just as much.” He blushed. Before he can say anything, you gently kiss him.

He kisses back almost instantly, wrapping an arm around your waist and cradling your head. This was a moment you’ve  always waited for, and this time, you didn’t care if Loki knew. You kissed a little more bravely.

He pulled away from you after what seemed like forever. He grinned as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I love you too, Loki,” you whisper.

“That is such a relief to hear.” He laughed softly. “I’ve waited so long —”  
“Not as long as me,” you remind him.

“I hate when you’re right.”

You shrug. “Why did you dress up, if there’s no date?”

“I know how much you love this outfit,” he says. You laughed.

+-THE END-+


	2. Coca-Cola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get Loki to try coke for the first time

"Hey, Loki?"

He turns toward you. You were in Central Park, New York City. It was a nice, warm, sunny day. Birds chirping. People busily moved along the sidewalk. He was in his black suit. You were wearing a (f/c) blouse and (pale accenting color) pants. You worked at the local library, and quickly became friends with the God of Mischief. "What is it?"

"Are you thirsty?" you ask, trying to hide your smirk. There was a soda vendor near the bench where you sat—just across the road. You knew what you wanted: (Fav coke product). But there was a drink Loki hadn't yet tried.

"I suppose. . . . Why?" he asked, seeming clueless. He squints out into the view of the people they called New York. You know that he would never admit it, but you knew he still wanted to rule them. He was born and bred to be a king of some sort.

"I have a spare dollar. Have you ever had Coca-Cola?" He shook his head.

"No; what kind of ale is it?" He looked curious about it. It was one of your favorite expressions from him. The soft look of his eyes and the slight pout of his lips? Adorable.

"It's non-alcoholic." You stand up, putting your (h/c) hair up and brushing off your clothes. You dig in your purse, taking out your wallet. He looks more confused at the mention of 'non-alcoholic'. "It tastes good, don't worry."

"If it tastes anything like your ridiculous coffee, (Y/N), I'd rather not." He starts to stand, but you push him back down. You weren't sure if he was following you or if he was leaving, but you weren't passing up this opportunity to get Loki to drink Coke. "What are you—?"

"Stay," you order. "I'll be right back, 'kay?" You look him sternly in the eye.

"I'm just—" he tries. You shush him and out a finger to his lips. His eyes widened with just a small bit of annoyance and disbelief. He hated when you cut him off.

"Stay! I'll just be across the street; don't move!" You back away slowly, giving him a stern look. He glares at you. The expression on his face is slightly exasperated, but it seemed like he almost enjoyed it when you made him try new things. Almost.

He rolls his eyes and rests his chin on his hand, obediently sitting on the bench and waiting for you. You quickly got (Fav coke product), then a bottle of Coke. A giddy smile comes to your lips as you run back over to him.

"Here," you say, handing the bottle to him. He looks at it skeptically. You see the wrapper. Oh no.  _Share a Coke with a_ Significant Other. He would notice. Great.

"Are you sure it's not that disgusting coffee, (Y/N)?" he asks, turning the bottle and studying it. "It's the same color." You nod, opening the drink for him.

"Just try it," you tell him. He sighs and puts the bottle to his lips, taking a sip. His eyes widen and he pulls it away. You're almost afraid that he didn't like it, but it's a look of awe. Not fear.

"(Y/N)," he starts. "This is delicious. Why isn't this on Asgard?" He looks to you. "You can't be mortal. I've been trying to ignore this for quite some time, and now I finally have proof."

"Uh . . . what?" you ask. "I  _am_  human. And Coke has been around for decades." He shakes his head, setting down the bottle and and taking your hand.

"You're too beautiful. Too intelligent. Too knowing. You can't be human." You blush at the compliment, but he looked serious. "What are you?" He looks you dead in the eyes. "Some sort of Valkyrie? A goddess? A demon? A Jotun?"

You gently take his hands away, looking back at him with a light and serious air. "I'm human, Loki. I've been human." You give him an embarrassed smile. "And I'm average."

"You really aren't," he says. "Why in all the Nine Realms would I love you if—?” He blushed and stopped, seeing  _your_  smirk this time.

“You love me? Well, that explains a lot," you laugh. He looks like he was trying to think up an excuse, but it was too late. He was caught.

“Wait, wait, wait—” he tries, holding up his hands and giving an embarrassed smile, but you take his hands and cut him off with your lips.

It takes him a moment, but he kisses back with tenderness and relief and happiness. He laces your fingers together and smiled slightly against your lips.  
You pull back. “Good thing I got you that Coke. . . . I might have never heard that slip up."

He laughed some. "I suppose you’re right."

You booped his nose. "I love you too," you say. "Now share that Coke with me."

+-THE END-+


	3. I Miss You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I knew you were jealous, I knew it!” he says, kissing your whole face. 
> 
> “I’m not!”
> 
> Loki breaks up your partnership.

**WORD COUNT:** **2847**

“You can’t just  _expect_  me to be okay with this!” you shout. You were arguing again, like always. You had been partners for three years, now, and even more than that, inseparable. It was often hard to stay away, no matter how angry you could be at him.

“And why not?” he roared at you. You were outside of your office. Loki had walked in with a sullen expression, telling you his wish. It angered you immediately. “I can’t keep putting you in danger like this! We’ve become too emotionally attached. I’m asking Fury for a new partner.”

You bite your lip, clenching you fists so tight your nails could draw blood. “You should at least consider  _my_ feelings, Loki!” You step closer, almost daring him to say it. Say what he always says.

“I have to keep you safe!” There it was. The same excuse. One that never really mattered in the end because you had more training and were technically the superior agent. You roll your eyes.

“Why? Why can’t you just deal with me getting in the occasional fight? Why is it  _such_ a big deal if I get hurt or if I go out alone?” you ask, seeing his eyes darken with rage but soften with fear. He opened his mouth, but no sound came, so you continued. “I’m one of the best agents S.H.E.I.L.D. has! I can do the dirty work! I’m not a baby, Loki.”

“Yes! That’s why I worry so much!” he argued. “S.H.E.I.L.D. always has us go on the most deadly missions, and you’re so idiotic as to think you’ll make it out without a scrape! I— _We_  almost lost you, yesterday. I can’t be partners with someone like you.” You never fell for his silver tongue, but you could tell he was trying this time.

The statement hurt tremendously, but this was the man who came into your apartment for no reason (and invitation) and let you theorize with him in the middle of the night about missions and suspects. He cuddled you when you watched movies together, mumbling jokes in your ear when a character did something unbelievably stupid. He showed you his Jotun form and occasionally called you “Princess (Y/N)” instead of “Lady” just to tease. You trusted him above all others and vice versa.

The man who randomly bought you things while undercover and begged you if he could keep souvenirs of the little things. He took pictures of you after you bought him a camera, even against your wish not to. He could still end up being the closest to you like he always was. But you wanted to be his partner. No matter how much you complained about it.

“That makes two of us,” you spit. “How could I ever be partners with the God of Mischief and Lies? After all, he is just a  _monster_.”

His eyes harden. “You don’t mean that,” he whispers. “You know I care about you. So much. But being partners any longer will jeopardize our work.” He swallowed thickly. You scared him, you know it. You hurt him. He tries to grab your hand. Rare moments he held your hand. You pull your hand away, still upset.

“How? Agents need a bond of trust, Loki!” you tell him. “Other agents are jealous of our connection, how well we work together.”

**Loki POV**

_Jealous of our_ _connection_ _._  No. Other agents were jealous of me, how close I was to (Y/N). They all wanted her, cherished her. She was such a sweet, funny, caring woman. I was a monster indeed. It was an odd pairing, and I could even see why others hated me. But one cannot help whom they are in love with. And who did I love? Her.

“Learn to trust someone else, then,” I suggest, rather rudely. “After all, this  _monster_  could betray you.” I used the same tone of voice as she did, mocking her some.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh, Loki,” she sighs. I try to keep my cold glare, but I look down to the floor. She walks over to me, putting her hands on my shoulders. One gently reached up to cup my face. I catch it and hold it close. “You aren’t a monster. I didn’t mean that, you know I didn’t.” I nod.

“I know. I know, (Y/N). But look at us. We . . . we should consider how any more losses would affect us. And this—this—this  _whatever_  it is needs to be talked about too.” I set a hesitant hand on her waist. “It seems like whenever we are around each other, the world goes from being a dark place to—”

“The Fourth of July?” (Y/N) suggested. After celebrating the ridiculous holiday with her, I understood what she meant. The fireworks, the booms, the thrill. I nod. Though neither of us are smiling, I feel we both understand how happy we are to have each other.

We’re still for a while, she against me and I holding her. Neither one speaks. And for once I’m glad to not be able to use my silver tongue. She finally looks up at me, but a pang runs through my heart.

“I cannot stay as your partner. What would happen if you were hurt because of my ignorance?” I ask her. “I care too deeply to watch you in danger, (Y/N). This isn’t a decision out of spite or selfishness. It’s out of love. We’d become dangerous if the other was in trouble.”

She looks reluctant with her answer. “You’re right, Loki.” She sighs. “You’ll still come over, right? Watch movies and stuff?”

“Darling, I’ll even sleep over and make you that cake you love, with popcorn.” I laugh, even though I’m completely serious. “I’ll brush your hair and play board games. Nothing we wouldn’t do on a day off.”

She smiled softly. “Really?”

“I promise. I will  _make_  the time for you.” I take her other and lace our fingers together. She grinned at me. I give her a soft smile. “We just . . . won’t work on the same part of projects anymore.”

Her smile drops. “I know. I know how much I say I’d take another partner all the time, but I don’t  _want_  one.” She pouts and looks away from me. I don’t know how to tell her I want to be her partner in more than work.

“It’s the best option,” I say, slow and steady but also sadly. “I promise nothing will change between us.”

She gave a slow, tiny nod. “Okay. Okay,” she says. “But if you don’t go now, I might make you stay.” She looks at me with her lovely eyes. A firm stare. Right now, I’m sure, more than ever, I’m in love with her.

I let go, wishing to kiss her, care for her, but I rush off to find Fury.

**Your POV, four months later**

Most people at parties have fun. You  _usually_  did. Usually. And this year, the Halloween party was at the top of its game. Everyone was looking astonishing. Your costume? A fairy. His costume? A pirate. He sounded the part along with looking it.

But you weren’t having fun.

You saw him with his new partner, Yvonne Cathery. He was laughing with her, probably at something she had said. With her lovely blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was a typical blonde: very pretty, very funny, and usually everybody’s type. And you felt hatred for her.

Your new partner, Charlotte Mendon, looked at you with a sort of worry. Her dark hair and eyes made her look pretty, but you could care less how she looked. She was one of your best friends, next to Loki and Natasha—well, just Nat now.

“Honey, you okay?” she asked. You shake your head, furious with Loki. He  _was_ busy, yes, and he was still coming over and doing everything he promised. The both of you were even close to sharing a kiss, a few months ago. (On a dare, but who cared? He looked eager enough to you.) Still, he wasn’t as close as he could have been. “It’s Yvonne, again, isn’t it?”

“I want to kill both of them, at this point,” you growl. You tense up more when Loki looks over at you. He smiled even brighter, waving. His face was tinted red, but you assumed that was because of his pretty partner. You glare. He looks confused and arches an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong?” he mouths. You point to him. He looks behind him at first, then points to himself. You nod. “Yvonne too?” he mouths more. You nod again. He looks dumbfounded and grins evilly. Yvonne asks him something and he makes an excuse. She pouts and attempts to seduce him into staying. He gets comfortable, walking away.

Toward you.

You light up like a Christmas tree. Why? Because he’s moving so fast, he’s running people over. His eyes are bright and so is his smile, but just as mischievous. Yvonne looks absolutely offended, and somehow, that’s okay with you.

He lifts you, making you let out a noise. He spins you. You try so hard not to laugh and stay angry at him. He sets you down and kisses your cheek, making you blush. “Loki!” you roar.

He pulls back, hands on your waist. “I  _knew_  you were jealous, I knew it!” he says, kissing your whole face. His grip was shaky, and you turned your fiery face to where he was sitting. Four whole bottles of hard, white alcohol. Was it a hundred proof? Oh no. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing: He was drunk.

“I-I’m not jealous,” you say, seeing Charlotte smirk. You were, and there was no use lying to Loki. He holds you close, cradling your head and giving a small laugh. You blush furiously, looking down on the ground.

“You are! You are!” He lets out a chuckle and goes to kiss your lips but you were quicker. You put your fingers to his mouth, pushing him away from you, just a tad. He looks surprised at the gesture.

“Whoa, Loki-Doki. Hold your drunk horses. No more kisses. I’m not jealous and you’re in my space. Not to mention ruining my wings; they took  _weeks_ to make!  _Move_ ,” you say sternly. He pouts and lets go of you, though you could tell he wanted to love on you more. (Not that you didn’t like it, but he didn’t need to know that.)

“You’re still jealous of her,” he says, words slurred, a small smirk appearing and disappearing just as fast. “But you’re wrong about our relationship . . . she isn’t even someone I can . . . tolerlareate? Tolerate. I want you!”

“Loki,” you warn. He pouts more. To be fair, it  _was_  adorable. But it wasn’t like Loki to drink himself drunk. You press your lips together, using a softer tone. “Tell me what’s wrong, baby?” This was a tone you reserved for emergencies. Like nightmares and on the verge of tears. You were pretty sure this counted as an emergency.

He looks at you with worry and sadness, lips wobbling. “Come back to me. I miss staying up late with you and cooking for you and seeing you every second of the day. To be undercover and shower you with gifts I know you never saw the point in having, because what you wanted you already had and taking you out to dinner. I’m ready to be your partner, again, (Y/N).”

You sigh. “It’s only been a few months, Loki.” They way that he had described being partners . . . it had you worrying that he might just want more than that. You shivered slightly, your heart melting at how sweet he could be.

“But I miss you too much. I worry about you all the time, (Y/N)!” He holds your hands close to his chest, pleading silently. His heart was beating faster than you ever heard it before. It was getting really hard to say ‘no.’ “I almost went off base because you shut off your com. I wasn’t even supposed to be listening to it!”

You blushed. You knew he cared about you . . . but, dang, you were never going to hear the end of this from Charlotte. You look over to her, seeing her put a hand on her heart.

“So cute!” she giggled quietly. You roll your eyes a tad. You look back to Loki, cupping his face. You plant a kiss on his cheek, standing up on your tippiest tippy toes momentarily.

“Okay. Fine. Fine. When you’re thinking clearly again, we’ll talk about it over dinner or something,” you tell him, seeing his eyes light up again. “Got it?”

He beams and nods. “Thank you!” he says, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek, again. By now, you’re sure you look like the human tomato, even if the room was dark.

“Go get some water, okay? I’m worried about you.” You give him a soft, worried smile. He nodded. You squeeze his hand, pushing him away gently. He squeezes your hand back, holding on as long as he can. It seemed that drunk Loki was a lot more playful than usual Loki.

Charlotte smirks. “Is it just me, or did he seem  _really_  touchy-feely tonight?” she asked, her mermaid costume glittering as she sat next to me. I nod.

“He rarely ever hugs me, unless we’re watching something. And even then, he’s not holding me close and teasing or kissing me.” You look back to where he went. The water dispenser. He was drinking out of a paper cup. “Kissing me when drunk. . . . Definitely not what I was expecting. Can you imagine him doing it clear-headed?” You look to Lotte.

She nods. “Yeah, but you might have to dare him or something. Nothing much.” I glare at her. “What?” she asked.

“Seriously, Charlotte. Come on. He doesn’t like me like  _that —_ ” She cuts you off with a laugh.

“Of course he does, (Y/N), don’t be ridiculous. You see the way he looks at you compared to others. How far he’s been willing to go for you, never mind he ignores what he did right after.” She gives you a light laugh. “I’ll bet my bottom dollar he’s head over heels.”

“You shouldn’t bet that,” you say, giving her a sneaky smile. “You might lose it.” Charlotte rolls her eyes.

“The point is, you might have a wish of yours come true. Why is it so hard for you to believe?” she asks you.

You run your hands through your (h/l), (h/c) hair. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up, Charlotte.” You give a melancholy sigh. “What if it’s just the alcohol talking?”

She gives you a reassuring smile. “Trust me, (Y/N). Just this once.”

\-----

“Agent (L/N). Where are you going?” Phil Coulson says behind you, jumping you a bit. “You haven’t been properly introduced to your new partner.” His words are playful.

“Insulting, isn’t it?” Loki says, his voice coming from next to Phil. “One might think she wants to work alone.”

You turn around to face the sleek, blue eyed god. You grab his tie and smirk, pulling him down some to shrink the height difference. “As I recall,  _you_  were the one begging for  _me_  to come back. Now that we work together again, where’s my thanks?”

Phil makes a light laugh. “I see you’re properly acquainted. How about I leave you two alone?” He winks and walks off. “Don’t do anything Fury would catch!”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. It’s not like we will.” You look back at the god of Mischief. “Did you really mean everything you said to me at the Halloween party?”

“Of course, (Y/N). I admit, I lost a little self control, but everything was true.” He sets a hand on your waist and pulls you close, smirking softly. “And, um, you’ve never called me ‘Loki-Doki’ or ‘baby’ before.”

You blush. “You were drunk,” you say, but it’s still a horrid excuse. You move your hand from his tie to his shoulder, resting your other hand on his inner elbow.

“And? I call you  _Princess_  and  _Lady_  and  _darling_  and  _sweetheart_  and  _love_  all the time. Whether or not you’re drunk.” He smirked. “When are you going to admit you’re in love with me?”

“I . . . I—” You stop, blushing. “When are you going to admit  _you’re_  in love with  _me_?”

He grins, pulling you even closer. You make a soft noise of surprise. He cups your face and kisses you deeply, and for a second, you’re not sure how to respond. He was kissing you. He was kissing you! HE was kissing YOU! He seems to lose some confidence, confused. You kiss him back, though, forgetting that’s what kissing was.

He kissed you a little harder, definitely with more excitement. You wrap your arms around his neck. He pulls away. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you say.

+-END-+


	4. Diamond in the Rough...Pages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah have fun with this one

Someone knocked on the door. Your heart lightens and you rush to open it.

“Loki!” you laugh. You run into your boyfriend’s arms and hug him tightly. He makes a noise of surprise, hugging you back anyway. You lift your feet off the ground and squeal. He grunts happily as he squeezes you, spinning you around. You grin and hop down. “Did you bring it?”

“Of course I did, what kind of fool do you take me for?” he laughs, letting go of you and pulls out a book. Your favorite book. You had been begging him to read it with you for ages.

You squeal again and hug him. “I made tea. Come on!”

**Loki POV**

She looked so excited by the book. If I wasn’t so nervous, I would have said something about how adorable she looked, but I didn’t want to fluster her any more than she was going to be.

“What kind of tea?” I asked. She tells me the name of her favorite tea, and I nod. “That’s wonderful, thank you.” My heart pounded. What if she didn’t find it? What if we didn’t finish the book tonight? What if she said no?

She hands me a cup. I take it and give her a smile. She’s too excited to read the book with me to notice I’m shaking with worry. She was my sunshine. The moon and stars in my ever-dark sky. And today I was going to ask her to stay my universe forever.

She went into the kitchen, and I sat down on our favorite couch. I flipped through the book to make sure the “bookmark” didn’t fall out. It was my copy of the book, one I had been saving for a while. The moment I thought of buying it I knew I couldn’t live without her.

I wasn’t sure if she wanted the same thing, though. After all, our morals were so different. I thought of humanity as a sort of lower class, even now that I spend time with them. She thought the world of everything and everyone. I may have been born royal, but she was a queen at heart. I feared that she may not want me enough.

There was an indent in the pages in the middle of a book, just hiding there. And I brought an untampered copy if she wanted to keep reading.

And . . . an apology if she wanted nothing to do with me again. But hope against hope, she would be just as excited by my question as she was when I knocked on the door, if not more.

(Y/N) came back into the living room with our tea. She finally seemed to notice something was up. “Loki? Are you okay?” she asks me, sitting down and giving me my cup. I didn’t feel like lying, but to keep up the surprise. . . .

“I’m fine, darling.” I give her a soft smile. She doesn’t quite believe me, but that’s all right. I hold out the book. “Ready?” She smiled and nodded.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked me.

**Your POV**

He did seem a little on edge to you. Did something happen? Did he get bad news? You didn’t want to bother him about it; he was often touchy when it came to talking about feelings. You snuggle up to him. “I promise you’re going to love this book!” you giggle. He wraps an arm around your waist.

You open the first page, and you take turns reading. Page by page, the way you usually did it. You loved listening to his voice, how soft it was. Sometimes you wondered how a  _god_  became your boyfriend. You gave a soft sigh when you started to get to your favorite part, about halfway through the book. You went to turn the page, but you couldn’t speak.

There was a ring in the pages. Indented, like a book with a secret key. Rose gold metal with a white diamond, golden leaves spiraling up to catch it. You knew exactly what the problem was, now. Loki was. . . .

“I am,” he says, giving a soft laugh. He read your mind, and this time, you couldn’t care less. “I’m proposing.”

“Yes.” You said it in a heartbeat. You didn’t need any time to consider it. Yes, you would marry him. Yes, you would be his wife. Yes, yes, yes.

He’s silent for a few seconds, but it feels like forever to you. “I didn’t think you would want to.” You turn and face him.

“Why not? If I didn’t trust you, Loki, I would have ended it a year ago. A year ago, when I knew I wanted to be with you forever.” He looks at you, dumbfounded. “I love you, Loki Odinson, and I want to marry you.”

He nods. Now he’s grinning, putting the ring on your finger and squeezing you lovingly. “I bought another copy, just in case you want to keep reading, darling.”

You look at him. “You proposed to me and you think I want to go back to a quiet activity  _now_? Loki, I want to tell everyone!” You laugh and kiss him. You loved the god of Mischief.

+-END-+


	5. Your Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re up next to watch Reindeer Games

“Hey, uh, (Y/N), I think it’s your turn to watch Reindeer Games,” Tony says, walking into the kitchen. He’s tinkering with a piece of metal with a Pop Tart in his mouth. You were resting on the counter,

You roll your eyes. “But, Tony, I  _just_ looked after him—”

“Sweetheart, listen, we’ve been busy lately, and you’re the only one we’ve got available. Go on. Watch after the Trickster.”

You groan. Tony was like a father to you. It hurt you not to listen when he asked you so nicely, but Loki was the absolute worst. “But he’s so mean!”

“He’s the nicest around you, believe me. He basically teases you compared to everyone else, (Y/N).”

You hated that he was right. You groaned. “Okay. Okay, Tony, I’ll go watch over Goat Horns.”

He smiles. “Thanks, (Y/Nickname.) I might let you try out the suit later if he doesn’t break the glass again.”

You beam. “Really?!”

“Only if you go now,” he says. You smile wider and hug him.

“Okay!” You rush off.

 **-** **.LATER**. **-**

Just when I thought I was going to get relief. Another of Thor’s idiot friends comes back! The door opens. Who could it possibly be?

And then they pop their face through.  _(Y/N)._  I smile. “Oh, it’s you again.” She rolls her eyes.

“Yes, it’s me, again.” She sits outside of the glass. “Who else would it be? No one else gets stuck with this boring job.” She sighs. “I absolutely hate babysitting you.”

“You don’t . . .  _babysit_  me.” I sit up some. “I actually find your company rather enjoyable.”

“Uh-huh,” she says. “Don’t gimme that crap — I won’t fall for your lies.” She rests her head on her hand.

“I’ve never lied to you. At least not after the first couple times.” She gives me an exasperated glare. I smile. “You got me. I’ve only lied three times, counting now.”

“Oh, yeah? What was the first?”

“When I said that you were insignificant,” I say proudly. She looks confused, so I continue. “Someone like you, (Y/N) . . . I couldn’t possibly ignore like the rest. You stand out too much for me to consider insignificant.”

“The second?” She crosses her arms and sits forward some. She looks a little confused and a tad irritated. That didn’t matter. I subtly admire her features. Her lovely (y/e/c) eyes, soft (y/s/c) skin. Adorable. Sexy. Something I would call beauteous, but she had surpassed it by far.

“When I said that I hated you?” As if hating  _her_  was possible. She scoffs, and I give her a flirtatious smirk. “I like you an awful lot, (Y/N). Perhaps we could be someth—”

“Listen, Loki-Doki,” she interrupts, her face red. Her thoughts screamed at me.  _Did_   _he just ask me out?! Stay cool, you hate him, remember? He killed 80 people!_  “You and I  _may_  get along better than the you and the rest, but that doesn’t mean we can be anything.”  _Pfft_ _, like he’ll fall for that! Two months, and you’re in love with him, why hide it?_

“I love you, too. Glad we talked!” I smirk, seeing her dumbfounded face. She gasps and stands up.

“You promised that you wouldn’t read my mind!” She turns bright red and turns on her heel. “I can’t believe you!” (Y/N) roars as she stomps away.

Meanwhile, I’m laughing and gently pounding on the glass to make noise. “(Y/N)! (Y/N), come back!” She shakes her head. “Come on, darling, I know you’re embarrassed, but I couldn’t help it. Please?” She pauses. Now she was close to the door.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Why not? I’ve let you see my Jotun form. I’ve told you all my secrets. And how in Odin’s name would I be able to use you? You call out every lie I make!”

“I’m a telepath, idiot.” I laugh quietly. A telepath who hates her mind read. Interesting. Then she turns around. “Oh, yeah. I’m dumb.” I smile and shrug.

“Will you let me out?”

“Of course not.”

“Not even for a kiss?”

“Nope.” She smirks and I whine. I pout some. “You  _know_ ,” she sings, “I could talk to Tony and Thor about it.”

“Really?” I grin.

“No. You gotta convince them first. And  _then_  I’ll kiss your sorry face.” She waves, then leaves. I groan some again, but at least I knew. That was a wonderful plus.

+-END-+


	6. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who dropped by?

**Apologies in advance if you don’t celebrate Christmas! For this chapter, it’s a Christmas party :p.**   
**WORD COUNT: 2092**

“(Y/N), babe?” you hear your boyfriend, Jerry Allen, say. He had a sort of superpower that let him go to other realities. In his original reality, he was the quickest man alive. “Could you help me put up the Christmas lights?”

You smile and nod. “Of course! Just let me finish spiking some eggnog for Thor. Uncle Tony and Aunt Pepper will be here soon . . . I can’t believe all of the Avengers are coming.”

Jerry grins. “Well, the Avengers are practically family. After Tony basically adopted you, they totally count.” He zooms through the living room, putting up the rest of the other decorations.

“Jerry, I was fifteen when I met Tony. That was ten years ago, I don’t think that counts as adoption,” you laugh softly. You helped him string up the Christmas lights, secretly hoping that your favorite uncle’s friend, Thor, would bring someone else to the party. You mean, he was practically your best friend. He had to show up and play just a  _few_ holiday pranks.

Your quickster boyfriend shrugs. “Whatever. And, uh, put up some mistletoe. That will be interesting.”

Mistletoe? Pffft, no one was going to fall for that. You sigh, putting it up, anyway. The only person you could think of who was unfortunate enough to even accidentally stand under it would be Bruce. You giggle gently. You would bail him out if that happened.

But what if  _he_  came? Oh, goodness. You didn’t think he knew about mistletoe. Would you still kiss him, despite having a boyfriend? Despite your promise never to fulfill your secret desires?

There’s a knock at the door. Jerry speeds to open it as you finish tying up the plant to the ceiling. You hear a voice at the door, and your heart flutters against your will.

“(Y/N),” they sing. You groan, but quickly smile anyway. You loved him, and that was that.

“Tony!” you laugh, running into his arms and helping him with presents. You move to hug Pepper. She hugs back. You hug Nat and Steve and Bruce, even seeing that Clint and Bucky showed up. They did with simple handshakes — they never were ones for major affection.

When you let go, huge arms pull you into a hug. How could you have missed him? You smile widely. Thor.

“Sister (Y/N)! Thank you for inviting us!” Thor’s voice booms. You return the embrace, though you’re finding it hard to breath. Sister? Usually he called you ‘Lady’ or just Small One. Never ‘Sister.’ What was going on?

It seemed like Tony and Steve and Pepper noticed it, too. “Why the sudden name change?”

Thor was about to say something, but quickly shook his head. “Nothing,” he says, like you all couldn’t already tell it was a lie. The four of you glare. “I’m under oath,” he tells you, walking away into the living room.

You roll your eyes. You were seriously starting to wish Loki were here. You blush as some PG-13+ to R rated fantasies flew into your head at the mere mention of the God of Lies. Such things you’d never let Jerry find out about, much less experience with him. Things that made you melt like butter on a thousand degree knife. Eating chocolate by the fire, sitting on his lap. . . . Things like that.

You sat down, a light blush dusting your cheeks and a smile on your face. Man. When you described the trickster as a god, there really wasn’t much exaggeration. His long black hair and his bright green-blue eyes made him look so regal. His smile was dazzling. You completely agreed with his sense of humor. You rested your head on your fist.

His lips looked so soft. You almost wanted to taste them. His hair was begging to be braided. And, norns forbid, those arms of his would cuddle amazingly. You were practically dying to find out. You hummed softly and let out a lovesick sigh.  _I wish you were coming._

“(Y/N). You okay? You’re zoning out, kiddo,” Tony chuckled. You blushed brightly and sat up, heart pounding in your chest. What if Tony found out about your more-than-a-crush crush on Loki?

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.” You cleared your throat. As smart as your uncle was, he would probably figure out soon. You didn’t think that would really end well. He arched an eyebrow at your statement, but didn’t press much about it. “You need something?”

“Thor spilled the beans if you wanna hear it.” He smirks and rests his hand on his knee, getting ready to stand up. “But apparently he can’t say all of it without you.”

“Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“He didn’t say anything. You just wanted to find out what I was thinking about. Didn’t you?” Tony looked somewhat shocked, to say the least. You give him an exasperated glare. He smiled and shrugged.

“Caught me, kiddo. Is Pete coming?” He looked around. You could tell he was worried. You pointed to the door, which burst open with a Spider-Man in a Christmas hat.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS, AND HAVE A WEBBY NEW YEAR!” He set his hands at his hips and dropped the bag of presents he had. You laugh and run to hug your younger friend.

“Peter! You made it,” you smile. He takes off the mask, grinning. His eyes sparkle with his eagerness and excitement.

“Of course, I did. Had to do some last minute shopping for Mr. Stark, but all’s good.” He chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “This Christmas is gonna be so  _sweet_!”

You roll your eyes. “Go sit down,” you laugh. You look out the door and see snow gently falling, but no Loki. You didn’t know how much you really wished he would be here until you figured he wasn’t coming.  _I miss you._

You looked toward where Jerry was. Thor and Tony glared at him. Nat was giving her fake smile. Bruce was fiddling with something in his hands. You felt bad for Jerry. You knew that you were a distraction from his real love, Tulip, but she was dating one of his co-workers.

 _“Darling, why stay with that quickster? I know who you really want, and it isn’t him. It never was.”_  You knew that voice. Oh no. Within a fifty mile radius, you could hear people’s thoughts without physical contact, as long as they were directed toward you. You gulped as his thoughts and mind reading powers mixed with yours.

 _You weren’t invited, Loki,_  you think back. You could tell he was amused by that statement. He knew the truth. He was in his mind, just as you were now in his. You wanted him to come, and he knew it.

 _“Based off of your current train of thought, love, I would say I was. Tell me that book you wanted, again?”_  You light up immediately.

_You can’t be serious! Really? You’re coming?_

_“Of course I am. Are you going to tell me the title or not?”_  You quickly tell him the correct name of the book, getting giddy just thinking about seeing him. Your face is hot and your hands are shaking. You can almost hear his snickering and your smile falters some. There was a knock on the window.  You look. “Oh, good. Now. Open the door?” he calls, his voice muffled by the glass.

You were sure that you died. He played you. He waved through the window, and here you were, thinking that he was just on his way. You growl at him and stomp out to the door and open it. The air is cold and crisp and bites at your ears and makes your skin erupt with goosebumps. “Loki!” You shout so loud that he winces. So much for godly ears.

He turns around and grins at you. He opens his arms out for a hug, and to also take credit for such a cruel prank. You roll your eyes, punching his stomach lightly. He makes a face, but before he can truly say anything, you hug him tightly. “You’re so mean,” you whine into his shoulder, feeling him hug you back with just as much force.

He chuckled and sighs. “Am I?” he playfully mocks back. You groan, shutting your eyes. You breathe in his sweet scent. What was it? Peppermint? Ice? You didn’t care. It was Loki. “I knew you would start wondering where I was.” You play with the soft, silly strands of his raven hair. You longed to tangle your fingers in the locks.

He pulls back some. “Shall we go in? I assume you don’t quite like the cold.”

“Of course, you big silly!” You sigh and hop away. “Let’s go!” You gently take his hand and pull him. Then you stop and think:  _What if I get caught?_

He interlaced your fingers. “Darling, I can tell you that only two people in that house know what’s really going on, and that’s Thor and Tony Stark.” He smiled. “Please. You know me better than anyone. Everybody will just think I’m playing another prank.”

You gulp and nod. Sure. Why not? You smile and gesture for him to take the lead. He starts running, not even giving you time to find footing. Before you know it, you’re sliding through the door, laughing and trying to get your hand back. “Loki! Oh, norns! Stop!” you scream with joy.

“What’s the magic word?” he dares, now picking you up. You let out a shout. He holds you like a knight would a princess, but you hope that the cold air from outside was enough of an excuse for your blush.

“Please?” That was your guess, but knowing him, it wasn’t it. He shakes his head. He thinks a sentence to you:  _In the end you’ll always . . . what?  “_ Just let me go!” you beg, kicking your legs some. You’re holding on for dear life because  _oh my goodness_ he was tall!

“If you want me to just drop you—” he tries, loosening his grip as he says it. You yelp.

“Kneel! I’ll kneel!” you say, finally giving in. He gently sets you down. You try to punch his shoulder but he catches your fist. He smirks. You roll your eyes and get on your knees. He shakes his head and makes a dramatic sigh.

“Dearest brother, has our friend Jerry Allen been informed about, ah, the current situation?” He looks over to Thor, who’s smirking. You were so confused. You gulp.

“Shall I inform our most loveliest of hosts that she’s under mistletoe?” You blush insanely. Loki . . . ! The dumb trickster! He takes your hands and swooshed you into his arms, moving under the mistletoe, too. He’s cupping your face and bringing you closer and closer to his. You’re resisting the urge to melt, and he hasn’t even kissed you, yet.

He looks lovingly at you. For a moment, you wonder if it’s really just a dream. “Admit that you love me,” he whispers, almost begging you to confirm this.

You pull back and rest your hands on his shoulders. His other hand is on your hip. “What am I supposed to say? I wanted everyone I love here with me tonight, if possible.”

“So you are in love with me?” He smirked widely and you leant in more than you meant to. He grins. “Finally.” You blush and try to push him away some. He looked almost overjoyed. He was right: You were in love with him. Deeply. But there were so many people you didn’t want to hurt.

“I-I don’t know what you mean!” you sputter, but your arms snake around his neck. “I love Jerry.” Dumb excuse, yes, but you were trapped. Loki had caught you, quite literally. Not to mention he was digging around in your mind.

“About as much as you love my brother. Could we stop this ridiculous cat and mouse?” Loki asked. You sigh.

“Jerry knows, right?” You bite your lip, feeling Loki hold you even closer. Your noses touched. He smirks, and you resist the urge to look behind you when you hear Jerry’s soft laugh.

“Well, if he didn’t, he does now. And he seems fine with it.” You sigh. You look up at Loki, cupping his face toward yours.

“Good. Now kiss me, gosh darn it.” He happily pressed his lips to yours, holding you close. You kissed back with relief and excitement and as much love as you knew how to. And for once, a kiss actually felt happy to you.

+-END-+


	7. Pen is Stronger Than The Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writers block for you? Oh dear

_Loki and Thor._

_Brothers._

_People I was sworn to serve. One of them seemed too outspoken while the other too haughty. I loved one with a passion, but the other chases after me with a drive._ _Lovely raven black hair, someone I admired so, but the oaf of the two seemed to think I'd make a lovely trophy wife._

You groan and hit your head on the table. The story you were writing was complete bullcrap. "Honey? Can you help me?" you called. You run your hands through your hair. There was more, but just reading through it made you want to gag.

Your husband marches down the stairs. His steps are loud, but regal. Just like the day you first met him. Some of the girls in high school called him a god. You, on the other hand, avoided him like the plague. You wouldn't go as far to call yourself his high school sweetheart, but you did always have a attraction to him since then. By now, the both of you were in your early and late thirties.

(Thirty-four and thirty-six.)

"Sweetness, what's wrong?" he purred. Loki could always help you. It was a ridiculous name, but his family was rich. His long black hair was braided down the back. You almost had to ask yourself why such a person would have wanted a wife like you.

"I don't know how to continue this stupid book!" You wipe your face. "And it's kind of embarrassing . . . the topic."

"The topic?" He reached over and took the laptop from you, despite your whines. He read it over, a small smirk appearing on his face. You grabbed for your laptop, but your husband's long arms kept it out of your reach.

"Lokiiii," you begged. "Don't read that!"

He moved out of your way, now reading some of it out loud. " _Such a marvelous man, this Loki was, but oh so cruel. Offering me flowers to trick me into going to that ridiculous ball! A prince like himself should know so much better._ " You blushed, watching him laugh. "Loki? That's what the main character's love interest's name is?"

"So what?" you say, your face hot. "Give it back!" He gives you a silencing look, still grinning.

"You're writing a story about us, aren't you?" He continued to read it. " _The prince didn't like how I refused, it seemed. 'Such a smart girl like you, don't you know better than to simply say no to such a marvelous gift?'_

" _I gave a smirk to His Highness. 'I know better. But I also think that a man shouldn't play with a girl's heart.' I curtsied. 'I think I'll ask Prince Thor if he would like to take me-'_

" _'Wait. Please,' Loki said. 'I'm not playing with anyone's feelings.'_ "

You roll your eyes. "That's all I have. It's dumb, okay?" You sigh. Loki wrapped his arms around you and set the laptop down. You looked to the ground. He tilted your chin up.

"Sweetheart," he says. "It's not dumb. It's the perfect start."

You wrap your arms around his neck. "You think so?"

"I know so." He smiled and kissed you. Loki could always help you.


	8. Mirror Image - Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ehehehehe Loki sees.... Someone who has his face..

I walked into the library. I was bored. It seemed the only thing that humans had on Midgard worth anything was poetry. I looked around, soaking in my surroundings. I had the itch to leave, but I was drawn in. Not only by the smell of books . . . but by the girl with the (y/h/c) hair sorting out the volumes and albums over near the back.

I padded over, studying the girl with interest. She seemed to be old enough to be on her own. Beautiful, at least on the outside. I don’t recall exactly how much time had passed, but long enough for her to put sixteen books back. She was intriguing.

She seemed to be done sorting, now, smiling as she reached for a book on the high shelf. I grabbed it before she could even touch it. “Interesting. You mortals have such  _fascinating_  poetry.” I begin to walk away, hoping she would follow.

“Hey! Hey, I was going to check that out; that’s the only copy in the whole library!” she whispered, grabbing my arm. I turn to face her. “Don’t you know any manners?” She had very lovely (y/e/c) eyes. Her face was like a goddess’s. I was almost stunned. But she was a mortal. It would be a waste of time and setting myself up for misery.

“Darling, I don’t  _need_ to use manners—I’m the God of Mischief.” I smirk. She finally takes a good look at my face and gives a soft gasp. I could hear what she was thinking:  _I just sassed the guy who wrecked New York._ Based on her train of thought, I was thinking she would be fun to toy with. Fun to keep as a mortal pet or something. Or better yet, I could —

Stars filled my eyes. She had  _slapped_ me. I raise my hand to touch my cheek. What was with mortal women and slapping me? I glared at her. “For New York, I assume.” She nods, and I grin. She looks offended.

“Give. Me. The. Book.” She seemed angry. Didn’t she know I could behead her without a second thought? I smile evilly, looking down at her. Her face tints red, but I didn’t bother reading her mind. What was the point? It could have been anger or attraction, or equally both. I always had that effect on people. I was the God of Mischief and Lies.

“No,” I say. She frowned and her hand twitched as if she were ready to hit me again. I shrug and turn around once more. She jumped on my back, surprising me. “Ack!” Before I could throw her off, she took the book and walked off to check out the book. I gaped. I didn’t really want her to leave, but I found myself enjoying watching her go. I went after her. She seemed like a challenge.

“Give it back,” I say, grinning. She ignores me. I grab her wrist. She pulls it away. “Give me the book.”

“No,” the girl says finally. “I would do anything to keep this book out of the hands of a b*st*rd like you.” To be perfectly honest, I was impressed with her boldness. Or was it stupidity? Never mind that. She had my attention. My heart raced. This girl was so much more than a mortal, and I didn’t even know her name—

Odin’s beard, I have been so rude. I didn’t know what to call her! “What’s your name?” I ask, giving her a smile. A real one. She rolls her eyes.

“Why should I even tell you? You act like the biggest jerk, you’re probably the worst person to be introduced to! Not to mention you tried to enslave humanity.” She set a hand on her hips, stepping closer. “Heck. I would rather never see you again.”

“You’re going the wrong way for that,” I mutter. “I believe when you don’t want to see someone again, you walk  _away_ , not toward them.”

She grits her teeth. “I was planning on it. Besides,  _Your Highness_ , touching me like that is assault.”

“I beg your pardon?” I ask. “I grabbed your wrist, not your bum.” I would have tapped her shoulder, but I wanted her to face me, not slap me away. (Again.)

“Well, how was I supposed to know you weren’t going to pull me next to you and whisper nasty things in my ear? Or kiss me or something? Assault, when I’ve never met you before.” She stared at me as if to say,  _Duh._

I blink. “Apologies, my lady.” I didn’t know why, but murder seemed like less of an offense than assaulting a woman. I felt my face get hot and I stepped back. I knelt at her feet, not even noticing what I was doing, nor whom I was doing it to. “How could I ever make it up to you?”

She smiled some. Giggled a little bit. “Considering that you didn’t tell me to kneel before you or give the library a subjugation speech, buy me a coffee and I’ll forgive you. I’m (Y/N) (L/N).” She offers her hand to help me up, but I don’t use it to stand. Back on Asgard, any decent man would be bending over backwards to be forgiven by a respectable woman.

Instead, I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. She blushed. “The pleasure would be entirely mine, Lady (Y/N).” I stand up. “Would you like my number?” Unlike my brother, I bought a phone to use. My magic allowed me to have  _unlimited_ service.

“Um, kind of? How else are you gonna buy me a coffee?” She laughed softly. “What should I put you in for my contact name?” She messes with the hem of her shirt. I needed no time to think. I pulled it out of my pocket and grinned.

“Loki,” I say. I give her my phone. She put it in her number quickly. I would almost call it eager.

A voice in my head explodes with scoldings the minute she hands the phone back.  _What are you doing, Loki? What happens when you fall prey to feeling for her? When she dies? It will be useless. You’ll feel pain and misery long after she’s gone._ The voice inside my head is worried. But I’m done avoiding people. I need a change, someone to trust.

I look at the new (and only) name in the contact list:  _(Y/N) 😉._ “Are you some kind of cinnamon pastry?” I ask, letting out a small, disbelieving laugh. She blushed even darker.

“Do you mean ‘cinnamon roll’?” she asked, folding her arms. “Besides, it’s only because you look exactly like my boyfriend, Tom.”  _Boyfriend._ I was running the wrong direction. She was looking for friendship, and I was just starting to fall. “I thought you’d be able to tell it was a joke; I know you read minds.”

I blush. “Of course. And, ah, your boyfriend is good with this? You giving another, very dangerous man your number?” I fake a laugh, crossing my arms. I was slightly disappointed. Of course she had a boyfriend.

Of course.

“Yeah. He’s an angel, though, I swear.” She grins and hid her face some. She looked so lovestruck. It made my heart ache.  _Told you so,_ the voice in my head said.

“It was nice meeting you, Lady (Y/N). I shall see you again. Bring Tim with you, too.” I grin. I could deal with being a friend. It was what I needed.

“Tom.”

“Tom, yes,” I say. “I’ll see you later.” I bow, making her laugh.

She waves at me as I was leaving the library. How was I going to deal with this pressure in my chest? It was too early to feel it, too early to dispose of it. As soon as I’m sure I met someone I could actually treat right, I find out she’s taken by a look-alike of mine. I looked back at the door, hoping for a glance of her. “By Asgard’s power, I swear—” I stumble, bumping into someone.

_Bloody hell._

“Terribly sorry! Oh, dear, I apologize, I didn’t mean to bump into you—” The man stops. He closed his mouth and stared at me with shock. “It’s not possible. No, it can’t be. I’m so sorry, but I must be seeing things.”

“You and I both. Who are you?” It was so odd to see a version of me talking. I felt a little threatened by his whole demeanor. It was too . . . sweet. Short hair, soft eyes. A white button up shirt with half-rolled sleeves. Loafers. Black pants. It was kind of strange to admit this, but he was adorable compared to me.

“Who are  _you_? Aren’t you the man who wrecked New York —?” I cut the kittenized version of me off. He looked entirely bewildered.

“Yes.” I sigh. “I’m Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim. Who are you?” I folded my arms and tried not to scream. I was so jealous, it was unbearable.

“Tom Hiddleston,” he said. He put his hands on the sides of his head, swallowing and turning around to freak out. “This can’t be happening. I have to tell (Y/N) that I met a guy who looked just like me! She wouldn’t believe me, scratch that. . . . Picture!” He fumbled with his pockets, taking out his phone with shaking hands.

“Excuse me—did you say (Y/N)? As in the woman (Y/N) (L/N)?” He dropped his phone, but I caught it. He nodded slowly. He looked ready to scream, but I can’t tell if it’s from fear or excitement.

“I’m sorry, d-did you read my m-mind . . . ?” He takes his phone back from me. I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Apologies, b-but how —?” I point behind us, his eyes widening in understanding.

“I just met her at the library. I’m buying her coffee to make up for a misunderstanding. Perhaps I’ll buy for you both?” I try my best to look like an innocent in this situation.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “Just wear something dark like you are now, I’ll feel a tad bit better. I’m sorry, that sounded strange and rather rude.” He wiped his face. “Do you have a phone?”

I give my phone up for a second time today, watching him shakily put in a new contact. I take it back and take a deep breath along with it. “It was nice meeting you, Tom. But, ah, when (Y/N) wants us to find out about each other, I’d prefer if that was the first time we do. Deal?”

“Deal. I’m clueless.” He inhales deeply, a sharp exhale after. He and I would have a good competition or friendship. I wasn’t sure which.

“Yep.”

We part. I was fairly sure that he would win in the end, and I respected his relationship with (Y/N), but I would still try. It wasn’t in my nature to just give up on what I wanted. I wanted to be bested first.

-TBC-


	9. Don’t Leave Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SHORT AND SAD. TW: DEATH.

**“(Y/N)**!” Loki roared, rushing toward her. He found her weak. But hey. She saved him. But this couldn’t be her time. No. No, no, no. He rushed to help her, to gently lower her. Her side was badly bleeding.

“I-I’m fine, Loki,” she said quietly. Obviously, she wasn’t fine. She was the exact opposite — she was dying for crying out loud.

“You aren’t!” He cupped her face. “Why did you do that?” She shrugged, coughing softly. Tears pricked in his eyes. She had saved him. All his fault to begin with.

“You were going to get h-hit. I didn't want you t-to get hurt.” She brushed hair out of his face. He held her closer. Her wound was fatal. He shook his head, holding her closer.

“Loki,” she whispered to him. “I did it for you.” She gave him a soft smile. A dying smile. He swallowed a sob. He held her hand, stifling a sniff.

Time was passing too fast. Blood was pooling around her wound. Her face was pale.

“I wanted to marry you, (Y/N). . . . When I said I’d stay with you until you died, I didn’t mean this soon!” He kissed her head, feeling her body get weaker.

“I . . . I know. I love y-you, too.” She took a few more shaky breaths, then she went limp. Loki went numb. How could this happen?

The next hours were consisting of trying to save her, being torn away from her body screaming, and even trying to hurt others. This couldn’t have happened.

Nothing brought him more sorrow. And nothing would restore his happiness.

END.


	10. Coffee Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title

You walk into the coffee shop to start your day.  _Avenger Beans._  Your boss, Steve Rogers, smiles when you walk in. “(Y/N), there you are. We need you at the counter with Wanda and Vision.” He plays with his watch, the red-white-and-blue striped cover with the star kind of hurt your eyes it was so bright. Not to mention it was Steve’s reminder of Afghanistan.

“Sure. Is Thor on design again?” you ask, kind of worried. Thor wasn’t exactly the most trustworthy with making a cup look appetizing. Steve shakes his head. You sigh in relief.

“No, he’s grinding the beans. Tony’s on design. Bruce is trying to mix today’s special before we open. Just be careful: He’s getting frustrated.” He hides his smile. You nod. Steve’s smile drops, eyes widening as he runs past you. “Natasha, that  _is_ not what’s supposed to be on our sign!”

You giggle slightly. “This team,” you laugh under your breath. You were supposed to open in about thirty minutes. The owner of this building, Nick Fury, popped in every once in a while. It was the best job you’ve ever had, and you didn’t plan on quitting.

You walk behind the counter, getting the cups ready and washing off the surface. Bruce laughs in the back. “I’ve got it! Butternut Hazel Roast! Write that as the special!” he exclaims excitedly, his words directed to you. You grab the chalk marker and scribble it on the black board just as an early customer walks in. You sigh.

You knew this one. Everyone did. He made fun of you all once for running a coffee shop. Boasted about being a multimillionaire. Said his business would crush ours. Worst part? He was Thor’s brother. He tried to get your shop into bankruptcy once, too. You sigh in exasperation when he comes up to the counter.

“Hello, (Y/N), dear. How have you been?” he greets, smirking and removing his sunglasses. His hair is pulled out of his face, his gold tie matching his dark green suit. He rests his elbow on the counter. Your expression sours further.

“I’m not your dear,” you say through gritted teeth. “Why are you here?” You ready your monitor, just in case he wanted to dump the coffee he wanted to buy. And you grabbed some washcloths.

“I wanted coffee, and, if you’ll grant it, your attention.” He looked nervous, now. You were confused. He was never nervous. Where did his confidence go?

“What do you mean by ‘your’?” you ask, getting suspicious. He points to you. You blush some. He may have been nicest to you, flirted with you when he had the chance, but that didn’t mean what you thought it did.

Did it?

“Alright, you have it.” You sigh. “What coffee would you like? The special?”

“Black, please. And I would like to buy one for you.” He looks serious. Everyone in the shop freezes (except for Steve yelling at Bucky for spinning the sign.)

“Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Tony comes out from behind the kitchen door. He steps around and toward Loki. “Did you just ask (Y/N) out on a—?”

“Yes.” Everyone swallows, including you. Your heart was racing. Loki just asked you out.  _You_  out. Your answer? You grabbed two cups and began filling them.

Now everyone was completely shocked. Even Loki himself. You set the filled cups down and grin. Thor, Nat, Bruce, Tony, and Clint are very, very still. Loki’s jaw dropped.

“You . . . You really want to?” he laughs. You nod. He grins.

“I’ve always thought black was the perfect roast,” you mumble. His smile widens.

-THE END-


	11. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Loki are hunting a bad guy and you get cold

You wrap the fuzzy blanket around yourself. “Th-this is  _your_ fault,” you declare, sticking your nose in the air. “We would’ve gotten Bandesh by now if you hadn’t gotten s-so flippy!” You wipe your running nose, sniffing. It was two A.M. and you and Loki were sent to catch the biggest threat to the nation yet. But there was one problem: you were in Canada in the middle of winter with almost no supplies. Just a tent, two blankets, a bed pan, and enough metal containers to make a fridge.

Loki tends to the small fire. He was practically shirtless, his skin tinged blue. His hair was covering his back, crouching in front of you. Stupid Jotun. He could at least  _handle_ this freezing cold! “(Y/N), please. He—,” he tries. “He called you worthless.” He looks at you out of the corner of his eye. You roll yours.

“So? I mean, he wasn’t far off,” you mutter. “Compared to you, I-I’m just ordinary. Bandesh is a demigod. You’re a real god.” You exhale, trying to remember what your toes felt like. “Wh-what am I? Human.” You laugh softly. “Don’t say otherwise, either, you know I’m right.”

He sighs, putting more fuel in the fire. “Not to S.H.E.I.L.D., not to me. . . . (Y/N), in my opinion, you’re  _extra_ -ordinary.” He smirked some. You glare. He was such a flirt in the worst situations. He didn’t ever take you seriously when you tried to admit a flaw.

True, you were both mutually attracted to the other, but you needed to keep this relationship professional. Otherwise you were both screwed.

“Shut up, Loki.” Your teeth chatter as you shift in the snow. He looks at you again with that sapphire stare. He grabs the blanket that was intended for him. You arch an eyebrow. What the heck was he up to?

“Are you warming up, yet?” he asked, changing the subject. He walks over to you, wrapping the other blanket on you . . . sweetly? No, it couldn’t be, Loki was never sweet to you. The cold just must have been making you imagine things. You couldn’t quite pin the tone of voice, either. It wasn’t annoyed, or concerned. At least, not concerned, yet.

You want to lie and say yes, but you hesitate. You swallow, shaking your head. “Mm-mm.” No. You hug yourself tightly. Loki pressed his lips into a thin line. “My hands are numb.”

“They are?” He looks toward his sucky fire. You nod, blowing on them more. He takes them in his own hands. You freeze. Not because his hands were cold or that you literally froze, but because his hands were  _warm._

You blushed, which you knew wasn’t visible through your pink cheeks. You smile at him. He smiled back. He caressed your face. “And my lips . . . I can barely feel them,” you whisper, which was true. He chuckled.

“Oh? They do?” He lifts you into his arms. Oh, he was so warm. You leaned into him. “How should I fix that, my queen?”

You shiver at the mention of being called his queen. He never called you that, even when you were alone. Very rare and intimate occasions he did. You grinned so much it hurt. “Warm them?”

“Warm them? How?” He takes you into the tent. You hold on tightly to him.

You look away a bit, then say, “However you want?” You bite your lip as he sets you on the cot. He lays next to you, closing the tent and snapping the fire away.

“However I want? What if I wanted to cover your mouth with embers?” he asked, arching a brow. You roll your eyes and snuggle into his warm body.

“I trust you with my life.” You grin. He smiles, kissing you gently. Warmth flooded from your lips to the rest of your body. You were still physically cold, but this was wonderful. You kiss him back almost immediately.

“Did that warm you up, my queen?” You nod. “But everything else is still so cold. We may have to stay here  _all night._ ”

“Oh, dear. We should be extra careful and stay until at  _least_  noon,” he says, pulling you closer. He ran fingers though your hair. You smile.

“Oh, I agree. We should stay warm.” You kiss him once more. Yes, you were definitely, happily screwed.

-THE END -


	12. Babysitting - I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re going to get a new babysitter.

_"Before she is born,  
_ _you will be long past of age,"_ the first Norn whispered in his ear. Loki swallowed. He had asked if he would ever find love, not if he would become a sicko. She looked to her sister.

 _"You'll give up your status in  
a heightened rage,"_ the second says. She gestured to a diagram of the World Tree. She points vaguely to the middle. Loki felt a chill down his back. She wouldn't be Asgardian. . . . Why not?

_"She will be your love,  
_ _your one and only.  
_ _For fear she dies,_   


_you become mortal to keep from being lonely,"_ the third Norn said. They stand together, holding hands in the vision.

 _"She will be a rich man's pride._  
She will be a sigyn, remaining by your side.  
Take care of her, and she will love you forever.  
Ignore her, and you will lose her altogether."

She wasn't Asgardian. She was somewhere near the middle of the World Tree. Loki swallowed yet again, opening his eyes to reality when the white Norns clapped their hands and disappeared. His 'true love' would be somewhere in the Nine Realms. He could barely breathe. Thor was going to want to hear about this, but he didn't know if he could. He was going to 'give up his status'? Whatever that meant.

"Loki?"

He turned to his mother, Frigga. "Hm?" he asked, his fingers tingling. He scratched his palm. She walked over, tucking a strand of his short hair behind his ear.

"Are you alright, my dear? You look fearful," she observed. "Did the Norns finally answer your prayers?"

"Yes," he said meekly. "They did. . . ."

**\-----------**

"WHAT?" Loki shouted. "Why do I have to babysit your daughter?!" His eyes were wide and his back was straight in surprise. He had never thought he would  _have_  to ever  _babysit_ a little girl, nevermind  _Tony Stark's_ child. The little girl, (Y/N) (M/N) Stark! That was like . . . Loki didn't have the words. He literally was going to have to watch over one of the most precious things in the country. (Not that you were, he still didn't like you. At  _all_ , mind you.)

"Because everyone else is busy, and Thor promised you'd keep her safe," Tony smirked and handed you to him. You were an adorable baby. Your eyes sparkled from the light. You were lightweight in his arms, but he tried not to pay attention to that. To  _any_  of your cuteness. "Besides, she sleeps best when you hold her."

"Thor really shouldn't be making promises for me; we both know he's never right," Loki laughed, his hope to get out of this job so plain on his face. It wasn't that he hated children . . . it was that he didn't know if he could be a good parental figure. You gently patted his face. He looks at you and smiled, but it quickly melts as he tries to make more excuses.

"What if she got away from me? What if she doesn't like me? What happens if she cries? What if—" Tony cut him off quickly.

"Calm down, okay? I just want to see her happy when I get back. It'll only be for a couple hours. . . ." Tony was trying to seem calm, but anyone could tell he was extremely worried about leaving you with the God of Lies.

"Dada," you coo, reaching for Tony. Tony kissed your head. You try to fall into his arms, but he pulls you back. You whine, and he shushes you. He lets you take his finger for a bit before taking it back. Loki could tell that you didn't like leaving your father, but she practically adored you; didn't the Norns say something about him falling in love with a mortal?

"Mommy and I will be back, soon, sweetie," he said. "Okay?" You nod, and you fall back into Loki's arms. Loki froze. You were so small. And so soft, too! Loki just wanted to cuddle you and squeeze you, but not look after you by himself. You could get hurt. He felt too trusted, which was never a good thing.

"Take care of her," Tony continued. "If anything happens to her, I'll—" It was Loki's turn to cut Tony off.

"I know, you'll kill me. There's still a line," he muttered. You started to gently tug and play with a stray lock of his hair. He smiled down at you, again, making you grin. Tony began leaving, and Loki quickly ran up to him. "HEY!"

"What?"

"Don't just leave! I don't know a thing about infant-care—"

"Bye!" He shut the door. 

Loki, with you in his arms, walked over to the couch and plopped down. He let out a frustrated scream, just a tiny one. Not only did they leave him  _alone_ , they left him alone with a small child that could possibly erupt in tears in the next five seconds. How was he supposed to handle that?

Loki didn't know how to deal with babies. He barely knew how to deal with people. One of the rare things he could do was  _manipulate_  people, but he only knew how to do so negatively. He had no clue how to actually keep someone calm for a good reason. He may have had a silver tongue, but it was lead when he was trying to be sincere.

He would most likely cause you, Stark's child, distress when you were actually upset. He wasn't allowed to read your mind; you had even told him yourself. (You were eighteen months, you were talking some coherent words. "No" seemed to be your favorite, but that time it was serious.) 

"Lo," you say, in that firm baby voice that Tony taught you. Or was it Pepper? Either way, you learned it. It was sort of . . . amusing. He looks down at you. You weren't actually related to Tony or Pepper, seeing as you were adopted since you were two weeks old. But that didn't stop you from being a Stark. And you were  _very_  much like your parents.

"Oh, what do you want?" he mutters. Even though he disliked you very much, when you gave him that bright smile of yours, he melted completely. He smiled softly, stroking your cheek. 

"Lo!" you shout, giggling immensely. You reach up, trying to stand in his arms. He lifts you so you're standing on his lap. You grab his face, patting it gently with your hands. Like babies do.  _Pat, pat._ Loki rolled his eyes playfully.

"Silly girl," he said. "Even you like hitting me?" It was a joke, and it made you laugh. You shake your head.

"No!" you giggle. "I la you!"  **(I love you.)**  Loki's heart skipped a beat. How sweet. A one-year-old telling him you loved him. You told everyone that, actually, but with you? He knew it was true. It just hurt a little more because he did too cherish you.

You were tiny, precious, and adorable. Like any baby. But you were also a happy child, and Loki was your favorite out of all the adults, always second to your parents. Even young Peter Parker you considered beneath Loki. He felt a warm fuzz in his heart, a deep, calming honey spilling throughout his body at your words from his chest down to his toes. A baby just gave him that feeling.

He wasn't . . . getting desperate, was he? He shoved the feeling down, trying to ignore what that was. Perhaps it was because he had never been truly told 'I love you'. Whatever the reason, he still knew his feelings, and they were of absolute adoration of little dear you.

"I love you, too, (Y/N)," he admits quietly, tickling your side. You squeal happily, clamping your arm onto his finger. He smirked, tickling you more. You yell out excitedly, squirming some. "Ticklish little one."

"Lo, no!" you protest, falling into his arms. You take tiny breaths, looking around. Your hair on your head was soft, and Loki stroked it gently. You rest against his chest.

"Are you tired?" he asked, checking the clock.  _3:00_. Nap time was soon approaching. He rubbed your tiny back, bringing you closer. You heave a tiny sigh and curl into him.

"Mm-hmm," you hum. He rocked you in his arms, your small body fitting perfectly in between his elbows. You close your eyes slowly, yawning. He kissed your head.

He didn't bother putting you down. You would fall asleep on him anyway. And he was perfectly okay with that.

**\-----------**

Later on, after you awake, Loki tries to get you to talk a little more . . . elegantly. Specifically, his name. You kept saying  _Lo_ , and that was sweet and all, but you needed to learn, anyway. He hoped you wouldn't be as stubborn as your father about this.

"Loki," he said, pointing to himself. His voice was soft, his other hand holding you against him gently. Your entire side, from your knee to your elbow, could fit in his hand. You swished your hips in a sort of exercise. How sweet. " _Lo-ki_."

"Lo-kee," you try to repeat, testing out the sounds. You had more emphasis on the  _kee_  than Loki would have liked, but you were getting somewhere.

"Wonderful!" he praised. You giggled. He loved the high-pitched sound. He suddenly understood why mortals felt the urge to repopulate; why anyone did. He rubbed your noses together. "What a good job. Who am I?" he quizzed.

"Lo." You point to him. His smile drops. He shook his head gently. How could you just . . . ? He sighed.  _Time to try again_ , he thinks.

"No. I'm  _Loki_. Can you say that?" he asked. You nod, voicing the words.

"Lo-kee."

"Loki." He points to himself. "I'm Loki."

"Loki." She grinned.

"Now  _who_ am I?" he smiled back.

"Lo."

What was he going to do with her?

**_ TBC.... _ **


	13. Truth or Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a fun friendly night with the team/family that outs your secret

You take another sip of wine. "Pass," you said, the dare utterly ridiculous. There was no way. No. Freaking. Way. Tony, Steve, Nat, Bruce, Bucky, Sam, Clint, and Thor sat around the floor in a circle, you included. Loki was watching from behind the piano, Pepper on the couch. You were all at Tony's house. "There is no way I'm licking whipped cream off Clint." You can hear a scoff behind you.

"I'd do it. It's better than the question Stark is about to ask," a deep, chocolate-rich voice said. You shivered slightly. He reminded you of a cat from the angle you were at, and his hair fell from his shoulders and dangled above your head. You look up at the man draped across the white piano. "Unless you want to reveal your cr—"

"I said  _pass_ ," you insist. Loki smirks, propping himself higher on the piano. Tony, who seemed to be okay with Loki reading his mind, smirked as well. He looks to Pepper for an okay, who shrugged as if to say,  _She's walking into it._

"Okay," Tony grins, which really wasn't a good thing, "how do you feel about Loki? Truthfully." The rest of the Avengers in the room's eyes widen with surprise. You were sure that no one knew about your feelings for the god, all except himself. With a mind-reader, you didn't really expect him to  _not_  know. But you didn't dare tell any of the others.

"I . . . um . . . ," you stammer, looking at the prince. He shrugged, tossing his hair back. He looks confused as your face turns dark.

". . . What? You just think of me as a friend, right—?" You quickly shake your head, then ducking it. He sat down on the instrument's bench. His face tints pink. "Oh," he muttered. "I didn't know—"

"How could you not?" you laugh, somewhat confused. This was going to be awkward, now. But your feelings were that one obvious thing that no one notices on a daily basis. "I've practically loved you since day one—"

"How much wine have you had, darling?" Loki asked, slipping next to you. You look at your half-empty glass. Probably your third or fourth, now? You must have had a really guilty look on your face, because he takes it from you, downing it in one swift motion. "There. You're out of the game, love."

"Hey," you whine. Your heart hurt slightly. You knew Loki didn't reciprocate your feelings. But you were used to that by now. "I'm just drunk enough to be brutally honest, 'kay?"

"I'm not risking it, dear," he sighed. "Now. Look at me." You do. He takes your face in his hands. Your heart beat quickly. What was he doing? He was probably going to brush your hair out of your face or he was going to feel your temperature.

What he does next? You could hardly believe it. It had to be an illusion, even in your buzzed state. No one was seeing this, right? This was a dream?

After he pressed his lips to yours, you can hear the others gasp loudly. Tony is laughing. Your eyes are wide with surprise.  _Loki Odinson was kissing you._

He pulls back when you don't respond. "Did you not like it?" As if that was what mattered.

You shake your head. "N-no!" You can't help but feel a smile creep onto your lips. "I loved it."

-THE END-


	14. Chocolates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re eating chocolate as your moody...whatever he is comes home

Loki sauntered in and face-planted onto the bed. He left his feet on the floor, his arms hanging off the sides, too. You roll your eyes at him. He clenched his fists. It seemed like he was having a bad day. . . . You pop another chocolate in your mouth.

You gently move his hair out of his face, maybe playing with it some. You pry the knives out of his hand; you knew he could get dangerous with weapons. "Sorry, babe," you joke. You weren't together, but then again, you called everyone that. You take his cape off, never leaving the bed. He relaxed some at your touch.

He sighed deeply. You tickle his ear, and his breath hitches. His body tenses and his skin turns pink. Loki covers his head with his hands, looking away from you with a pout. "Leave me," he grumbled, his voice muffled by the comforter on the bed. You laugh. He swats at you pathetically, turning his face away from you. You shift over, and you can't help but giggle.

"No," you say. You loved watching his reactions to when you said the word. He flicks his hand at you, in a sort of dismissal. That was a new one! You can practically  _hear_ his silent whine. 

"I banish you," he said. You lay playfully on top of Loki's back. He groans softly in annoyance at your little migration.

"You can't banish me!" you laugh. "It's  _my_  bed!" You toss your hair back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. They were big and strong, and you loved to just hang on them or cuddle them. "Besides, Mr. Grumpy, you love me." You nuzzle him in an affectionate but joking manner. His face was hot. Or was that just you?

He rolls his eyes, moving entirely on the bed. You giggle as he does, trying to hang on for dear life.

"I hate you!" he laughs, though he's trying hard to stay upset. He looks at you, propping himself up on his elbows. He looks at the bag in your hand, arching a brow and letting a soft smile overcome his face. "Is that chocolate?" The question was almost asked excitedly. You knew the prince loved his sweets.

You stuff another into your mouth as you sit up. He turns over, and you fall onto his belly. You had tried to get off as he turned, but no such luck, it seemed. You let out a noise of surprise. You're just laying there, chest to chest. Intimately. You can smell the wine on his breath and the chocolate in yours. The air you were sharing was mixing.

"Perhaps," you whisper. You straddle him, sitting on his stomach. "It's a shame you don't love me. I would have shared this chocolate with you~" You pop the last one into your mouth with a small smirk, watching his expression change into one mixed with shock and awe. 

He sets his hands on your hips, almost daring you to kiss him. To just kiss him and get it over with. "Such a shame," he mumbled, running circles in the skin just under your shirt with his thumb absentmindedly. He looks at you, but not really. It's almost like a peek.

"Doesn't stop you from still tasting it," you mutter. You lay down on him softly. "But I would have shared it."

 He smiled softly. "You don't say." His hand travels up and down your back gently. You shudder, letting out a soft noise.

"I do say," you tell him. You let your hands trace his jaw, his lips, his ears. He closed his eyes and you can feel him relax once again. "Tell me what happened today."

"I . . . I had to go to a SHIELD debriefing. That Anthony Stark made me want to wring someone's neck." He sighs. He moves your hair behind your ear. As he moves his hand down, he stops at your cheek. "I barely made it out without yelling at someone."

"I couldn't wait for you to get home," you blurt. He looks at you with an expression you've never seen before.

"Home?" You see tears starting to form in his eyes. You sit up, but he eases you back down. "(Y/N), I don't live here," he says, disbelief filling his voice. You wipe the tears that escape his eyes.

You realized what you said too late. But it didn't mean you didn't want it. Loki was in your apartment more than his, anyways. He came here first before anywhere else. Even shopped for you. He wasn't your boyfriend, but you wanted him to be. You wanted him to be yours.

"Might as well," you mumble. He sits up. You fall into his lap. He helps you up, holding you against him adoringly. His eyes are fierce. You gulp. What was he going to do?

"You want me to live here?" He asked it like he wasn't entirely sure. You look at him softly, answering in turn, "Of course!"

He gently tucks an arm around your shoulders, cradling your head. He cups your face with his other hand. You didn't know what he was up to, but he never looked at you like that. And you loved it.

Almost as much as the kiss he gave you all of a sudden. And you kissed back, taking a strong hold on his shoulder. You felt his lips move against yours, opening and closing. He pulled you higher on his lap, his arms wrapped around you like you were going to disappear.

"I do love you," he whispered, pulling away. "And that chocolate was delicious." He smirked. You were still in awe, leaning up for another kiss. He pulls away.

"Meanie."

"I try to be," he says, nuzzling you. "And didn't I banish you?"

"Shut up," you complain, lying down on him. But everything was perfect.


	15. Importance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you two understand your mission?” 
> 
> “Yes, sir.”
> 
> “And you?” he asked Loki. He gave a solemn nod. You gulp. Loki better behave himself during this mission.
> 
> “I understand, sir. I’ll do my best to assist SHIELD.” He seemed a little more serious than usual. You gulp.

“Do you two understand your mission?” Fury asked, hands on the desk in a firm manner. He stared you and your partner down with his one menacing eye. He always intimidated you, and whenever a certain person next to you sassed him, you weren’t sure who was going to die first. Loki Odinson seemed to think he was above the world, and you could barely stand him.

“Yes, sir,” you say patriotically. You stand straight up. “Perfectly.” You stare at the wall, hoping that you didn’t seem too weak for this mission. You wanted to be the one to bring back the info chip with all of the military’s designs. It was a pride thing, yes, but you’ve wanted to be the best agent for as long as you can remember.

“And you?” he asked Loki. He gave a solemn nod. You gulp. Loki better behave himself during this mission. He was always screwed things up. He had better realize how important this was to SHIELD; to you.

“I understand, sir. I’ll do my best to assist SHIELD.” He seemed a little more serious than usual. The majority of the time, he seemed to be bored. You huffed quietly. You weren’t sure you believed him. He peeked over at you, though you ignored him.

“Excellent.” He gives the two of you one more stern look, then says with a quiet authority, “You’re dismissed.” You nod. You and the prince walk out.

\------------------------

You walk into your office, dragging him in. He was certainly irritated, but more amused by your anger, laughing while you tug him in. You slam the door, pushing him against the wall with all the force you could muster.

“Listen, darling, not that I don’t want this,” he says in his chocolate voice, “but I kind of wanted to be the one trapping the other against the wall.” He quirks his eyebrows, leaning in like he was going to kiss you. You pull away from him, letting out a frustrated scream. You slap his shoulder.

“You pig! You’re so selfish!” you shout. “This mission could change everything, and your mind goes straight to wanting a woman in bed!” You tug at your hair, sitting down in the chair. He smirks, leaning over the desk.

He changed his outfit with a wave, going from his normal clothing to a smooth tuxedo. You tried not to notice it, huffing. You were upset with him. He always seemed to know how to make you swoon. But this time you were just angry. He thought that your life-long goal was a game!

“Loki,” you warn, glaring at your ex. He leaned on his elbows.

“You’re cute when you’re angry~” he says, resting his chin in his palm, fingers sprawled across his face. He looks at you with an odd glimmer in his eyes. You roll yours, crossing your arms. He reaches over the desk and gently takes your hand.

“Perhaps you haven’t met me.” He kissed your knuckles. “And I certainly wouldn’t let just  _any_ woman in my bed.”

“It certainly seems like it,” you mimic, ripping your hand away. “And I’m also sure that that was why I’m not your princess.” You spat the words out with so much distaste, you  _knew_  that it hurt him. You watched an uncontrolled hand immediately touch his suit. You knew he still kept the ring.

“How many times must I tell you that I was on a mission?” he mutters, looking away. He stands up. You look at him with so much venom, you almost didn’t regret the words. He sighs. “If I didn’t, you would have—”

“Save it.”

He sighed. “All right.” He shifted back into his normal clothing. He scratched his palms. You noticed that he did that when he was nervous or worried or sad.

You put on the news. Because that was the only thing you could think of doing.

“ _Today, in Manhattan, the annual party hosted by President Milton will finally take off at ten tonight!_ ” the reporter said cheerfully. “ _It’s rumored that King T’Challa will show up, as well as Captain America and Tony Stark._ ”

She was a gorgeous blonde, green eyes. You saw Loki stare intently. Jealousy bubbles inside you. It shouldn’t have. She had a gaudy body, her chest too large and her cheeks too colored. But she was exactly Loki’s type, wasn’t she?  _That doesn’t matter anymore,_  you think.

“Can we watch a cartoon?” he asked, bored. He takes a pen and starts doodling on his hand. You sigh. “We’ve already been briefed, (Y/N). There isn’t any reason to be watching news.” He looks at you with a sort of concentration, but the amusement still there. You shake your head.

“Get out if you’re going to act like this isn’t a big deal,” you say bluntly. You word it carefully, your tone rougher than you meant. His jaw drops.

“Sweetheart—” he tries, his laugh more desperate and disbelieving, now. You cut him off, watching him become more squeamish.

“Do you want to be kicked out?” you ask, arching a brow. He waits, but finally shakes his head. You cross your arms. He sighed in defeat.

“Fine. Okay,” he said. He drops his arms. “You’re right, dear. This mission could tip the power balance of Midgard.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Joking about it isn’t going to help.” He steps over, shutting off the TV just as the reporter started to talk about the weather.

“Does your radio still work?” he asked, reaching up to the buttoned box above your desk. You didn’t say anything, but you knew he took your silence as “yes” anyway. He switched it on, soft music playing. He moves over to you, gently taking your hands again.

It took you a second to recognize the tune. It was your favorite classic, the first one you two danced to. He pulled you into a dance, slow and careful. “You never let me apologize,” he whispered, your body being filled with that honey-fire that spilled down your insides. “Or explain. Princess, please.”

That last word. That plead. You didn’t want to fall for it. You had to pull away. “(Y/N)?”

“Loki, we—I—” You shake your head. “We aren’t together, Loki. I’m not your princess. We can’t—”

“Can’t be together because I was trying to do the right thing? Can’t acknowledge that I want to marry you because you’re upset?” He asked the questions quickly, like accusations. He held your hands like they were the only thing keeping him here. You swallowed.

 _Shut up and go with it_ , you think, wanting to shout the words at him. But the truth of the matter was, he was right. “I . . . I am upset. But that’s not what this is about.”

“You know it is, and you’ve only ever wanted a reason to end what we had because of your past relationships,” he whispered furiously. You stepped closer. He had just crossed a line.

“Take that back,” you growl. “Take it all back!” You clenched your fists and flex your jaw. He stares into your eyes intently. He shakes his head.

“No.”  
  
You raise your hand to slap him. He catches it, pulling you closer. You bite your lip, furious. He pulls you even closer to him, an arm wrapped around your waist. “You said you wanted me to be truthful.”

“I said a lot of other things,” you whisper. “Tell me one thing that you truly meant. For once.” You weren’t sure if it was begging or ordering.

“I love you,” he says quietly. You know he says it from the depths of his heart. You melt, just allowing him to hold you. He leans in, stopping to ask, “Is this okay?”

All you can do is nod. He kissed you carefully. You kissed back. It was soft and sweet. When he pulls away, you say, “ _Marry me._ ”

-THE END-


	16. ¿Tú Habla Español?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki uses Allspeak.. Maybe you CAN pass Spanish!
> 
> (Translated in text❤)

"Loki," I whine, burying my face in my hands. "This is ridiculous! I should have taken French as a foreign language." He rubs my back, moving my hair away from my face. I rest against him. I reach for a muffin, but he pulls it above my head.

"Or you could just read what's on the paper and translate it," he suggests, stuffing the already-unwrapped muffin into his mouth.

The paper should have been easy. But it was like trying to read Klingon. Or like trying to sing in Martian. It was ridiculous, and I didn't understand a thing. Loki was sitting next to me in a button-up, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. (He really needed to stop wearing such hot outfits!)

The paper read this:

_«Buenos días. ¿Cómo estas?»  
_

_«¡Muy bien! gracias. ¿Y tu?»  
_ _«¡Felíz! Y muy cansado. Muy consado pero mi tortuga estas muy mal.»_   


_«¿Muy Mal? ¿Por qúe?»  
_ _«¡El odia el autobus en el manaña.»_

"Well, I know that  _Buenos días_ is  _good morning_ ," I tried weakly. He shakes his head. His body language said I was doing worse than he imagined. Or just as bad. Either way, he was amused but definitely not impressed.

"It says,  _'Good morning. How are you?'  
_

 _'Very good! Thank you. And you?'_  
'Happy! And very tired. Very tired, but my turtle is very bad.'  


_'Very bad? Why?'  
_

_'He hates the bus in the morning!'_ "

"How do you know that? You're so smart!" I laugh, resting on him. "It's like you're a  _god_  or something." The joke makes his ears turn pink, though he was the God of Mischief. He sighs.

"It's the Allspeak, my princess," he says, kissing my cheek. It was my turn to blush, now. Not that I hated that. . . .

"We agreed to not use that," I say. He always liked to drop hints that we would get married, but I was always so flustered about it. I was a junior, and Loki was a god. It wasn't unusual in the sense that his physical age was seventeen. He always promised that he would make me "immortal" as well.

"Technically, we  _fought_  about this." He smirks, fiddling with a ring in his hand. It was probably just an illusion, but it didn't stop me from feeling something in my stomach drop.

"Just shut up and be my Spanish tutor," I grumble, nuzzling him. He puts an arm around me.

"You mean your outside agent getting that A+ for you?"

"Be careful with synonyms. Remember I'm a master at English." I smirk now. He kisses me, chuckling at my new joke.

"Oh, I will,  _Queen_ (Y/N)." I shove him off the bench. "Hey!"

"How dare you! I will never be queen as long as Thor is on that throne!" you say, only slightly screwing around. Thor  _was_  cute. . . . 

"Sweetheart, you're not suggesting we  _dethrone_  my brother, are you?"

"No. I'm suggesting you help me learn Spanish. Are you going to or not?"

"I will, I will," he laughs, smiling brightly. Boy, I loved my boyfriend.


	17. No Greater Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ALTERNATE UNIVERSE??

I fell to the ground in defeat. "This . . . this isn't over!" I cry out, trying to sit up. Loki laughs darkly, crouching down to where I lay. My arms weak, my head and heart pounding. . . . I couldn't defeat him alone. His black curls are damp with sweat, one lock discolored from some kind of substance. Blood? Dirt? I didn't want to know.

"It's plenty over, (Y/N). All of the Nine Realms will be mine to fix." He smiled cockily as he cupped my face, giggling. His gloved hand taps my nose. "Poor you!" He was so utterly disgusting.

"I won't—I won't—" I try, but there was one problem: I couldn't try to win this. I was unarmed, on my own, and at his feet. There was only one way for this to end. And it wasn't victory. Not for me at least.

Loki tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Won't what?" he asks, mocking me. "Won't quit? Won't rest until my carcass is under your foot?" He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head. "What?" He looks into my eyes dangerously. The way he looks at me grates on my mind. 

"I have to stop you," I choke out. I grit my teeth as he grins ear to ear at my words. "Y-you're the monster, right?" My voice is uneven and softer than I meant it to be. His hands tighten on my wrists. His expression is unreadable.

His pointed nose is almost brushing my round one. He clenched his squared jaw, his eyebrows creasing in concentration. His lips aren't full, but they aren't flat, either. "I'm the monster," he repeats, his deep voice soft. It reminded me of chocolate.

I swallow. "Yes," I say after a moment, wondering why my voice disappeared for a tick. My reply was quieter than I wanted it to be. Maybe it was because he was so close. I wanted to leave. "You're the monster."

He makes a soft noise, which turns into a chuckle, then gradually into a soft laugh. I try to keep my breathing steady as he lets go of me, his hands holding his head. I hadn't realized how painful his grip was until it was gone. He sits back, laughing a strong, big, howling belly laugh, now.

"Oh, I see! You're afraid, aren't you? That's why you won't actually kill me when you have the chance!" He wiped his eyes, sniffing with mirth. "(Y/N), that's hilarious." He gives off such a boyish expression, it kind of hits me hard that he's millennia old. So much older than me.

I stare at him. How had he gone from looking like he wanted to tear my esophagus out to such a . . . a . . . boy? It was like he flipped a switch. A very shocking one, too. I furrow my brow, confused. Why would he think I was afraid of him?

"I'm not afraid of you, you jerk," I scoff. "I have never been afraid of you!" I struggle to sit up. My side hurt like hell. He takes my hand, making me flinch. Loki rolls his eyes, gently helping me up. My face heats up. I grit my teeth and take my hand from him once I'm propped onto the wall.

"Oh, I know." His expression is mischievous and playful. Manipulative. I swallow. He comes close to my face. I move away, as much as I can, anyway. "You're afraid of becoming me. Getting to know me. Finding me likeable and relatable. You don't want to see me as a person. And it's all because we disagree."

I suck in a sharp breath, my eyes widening. He was wrong, he had to be. I saw him as a person! Didn't I? "It's not because we just disagree, Loki!" I look at him with poison. "Look what you've done! Everything I've worked for was to make sure your actions don't destroy our world!"

His lips tugged ear to ear, and in the dark, he reminded me of a saber tooth tiger. White teeth that frightened me and bright blue eyes ready to kill me. He chuckled disturbingly. He moves closer, kissing my forehead and cupping my face. Something about this was off, though. Any other situation like this, I would have screamed. His touch set me off, however.

It was soft. Gentle. And the weirdest part is what it did to me. It shouldn't have been so comforting. He pulled away from me, standing up. My face was a hot plate.

"I know what I've done, (Y/N). I know what's happening." He put on his helmet, brushing off his green and gold armor. Loki smiled as he put down his helmet. "I need to leave now. If you're lucky, I'll go easy on you next time."

He bows, winking. "And there will be a next time."


	18. Mirror Image - Tom

Tom was . . . nervous.

That was the easy thing to say, actually. Tom was beyond nervous. He had never seen his girlfriend, (Y/N), gush about some random stranger so much. Especially one he had met. One that looked just like him.

"Oh, Tom, I think you'll like him!" she promised. Apparently, this guy had kept coming to the library and talking to her. That  _Loki_ kept talking to his girlfriend. And whenever she talked about him, she got a dreamy look upon her face. What was going on? 

They had coffee scheduled for the end of the month. One day away, but when he had come for the first time, the date was actually two weeks away. It really shouldn't have bothered him that (Y/N) was making friends, but if those friends also had romantic feelings for her, then. . . .

"I'm sure I will, too, darling," he says, faking a smile. (Being an actor, he was  _very_  good at that.) "What's he like?" They sat down at the table in the coffee shop. Tom had heard many stories about Loki, but he played dumb. For the sake of today.

"Perhaps you should ask  _me_  that," Loki says, in a voice all three of them recognized. Tom still hated hearing that from his mouth. He jumped, faking the surprise. (Again, actor.) He stands up and 'accidentally' spills a water bottle on him. Now, Tom may have been a gentleman, but Loki was a threat to his status as the boyfriend; any idiot could tell. Well. Except (Y/N).

"I didn't see you there! I'm so sorry," he says. "Deepest apologies." Loki seemed a little irked, and he tried not to feel pleased about that. He helped him wipe off as much as he could, saying "sorry" probably six more times.

"Tom, if you apologize one more time," (Y/N) warns, her voice all bubbly since the God of Mischief's arrival, "I'm gonna—"

"Going to what?" they say in unison. Tom hated that so, so much. Loki glared at him. At least they shared more than  _one_  mutual feeling.

She thought about it for a moment but decided against it. "Probably something." She smiled at Loki as he sat down and gently kissed her hand.

"My lady," he joked. She giggled and shoved him. He beamed. Tom huffs quietly.

"(Y/N), can we order?" Tom asked. He kept the polite smile—he hoped. The way Loki stared at (Y/N). . . . He hated it. But he could tell, even through the veil of his jealousy, something more was going on. He kept that to himself, though.

"Of course," she whispered. "Why are you so nervous? You're rubbing your hands together. Loki does that, too, actually."

"Would you stop comparing me to him?" he snapped quietly. He flexed his hands. "I just want to get through the morning  _without_  a hiccup." (Y/N) sat back, startled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was—" she tried. He cut her off, shaking his head. 

"It's fine. Perhaps I'm just getting a little jealous."

The rest of the morning seemed to go smoothly, at least, what Tom could tell. And he was strangely fine with that.


	19. Little Love Notes

Synopsis:  _You often go to the library to think. Lately, you've been finding little notes in your books. Intentional notes. Silly notes. You're close to finding the culprit._

____________________________________

Yesterday's note was a cute one:  _Your smile? I live for that._  It was the same handwriting as all the others, and you  _knew_  they were meant for you. You had originally thought the notes were already hidden in the books by the librarian. But you've already seen her handwriting, and you've begun to flip through the books before you check them out. There wasn't even a single paper in them.

At first, if you had your book on you all the time, they wouldn't show up. But if you set them down, they'd appear. Especially in your poetry books.

The first time it happened, it wasn't such a big deal. You, like anyone else, assumed that someone had been writing to a different person, or themselves. The ink changed from time to time, but you began realizing that somebody was intentionally leaving their cursive swirls on slips of paper.

You started keeping them.

For no good reason.

Things were written, like,  _Have a wonderful day; You're looking lovely this morning; I adore your laugh._ Things that made you smile, like  _That's my favorite book, too; Your heart is so pure; I wish I could say how much I cherish you aloud_. Things that made your face light up.  _My name is one you see often, Have you seen yourself this morning?, I hope I'm not too annoying._  Eventually, they would be signed like this:  _L._

You made a mental note to finally catch this person. Today. Because, even though he thought he was being sneaky with his little love letters, there was only one person who would ever dare write something like "cherish you aloud." And you were pretty sure that he didn't change his handwriting to slip things in your books.

The whole situation was ridiculously cheesy, yet somehow mysterious.

You smiled at the note in your book. You saw someone peeking through the shelves. His back to the books, his eyes peering behind him. At you. You didn't know why, but you grinned even more. Perhaps this game was worth it. You, pretending you didn't know, and he, never finding out. But the more you thought about it, the more you wanted to confront him with a smile. Or a kick.

And, if your suspicions were correct, your god of a best friend (literally) was going to be beaten. Or kissed. Or maybe both. You had an idea, but knowing the scoundrel, he was going to slip out of it, anyway. 

"Okay," you mumbled to your pages, grabbing, "if this is how he wants to play." You stand up, putting a bookmark at your spot. You smooth out the wrinkles in your shirt and turn to walk out the door.

For good measure, you slipped around the shelves so he wouldn't see you. You watched with eagerness as he moved as fast as lighting, grabbing a pen and a slip of paper, writing something happily. The look on his face was priceless. His tongue was in between his teeth, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. But his smile after he tucked it next to the bookmark was worth more. It was like a schoolboy getting away with a prank.

"Loki," you called, popping back to the table you sat at in the dark library. He froze, dropping his pen.

"(Y/N)!" he exclaimed, picking up the pen nervously. You walked over, hands on your hips. You smirk. His face was red.

"Have  _you_  been the one leaving notes in my books~?" you tease, looking up at him. His mouth opens slightly, but he closed it again before responding in a calm voice. (He did NOT look calm.)

"You know I'm not used to being caught," he begins, laughing apprehensively. He opened his mouth to continue but closes it quickly. He probably knew he couldn't get past you. You shake your head when he tries again, taking his hands and holding them up, sandwiched by your chests. He swallowed as you stepped even closer.

 _He's been leaving notes in my books, but he's flustered by_ this _,_ you think with amusement.  _Some god._

"Nope!" you say. "Because it  _seems_  like you've been trying to get caught since the beginning." You flash him a happy smile. He stepped back some, falling back in the chair. You gently swing his hands in yours. His eyes were bright, and his skin was strangely warmer than usual. His hands were clammy. Was he okay?

"I've been waiting to see if you would put the puzzle together," Loki sighed. He rests his head on your shoulder. You giggle some, and he lifts his messy-hair head. You gently brush it back, the way he liked it. He pouts at you. 

"You didn't even see my note," he whined, moving his fingers around yours instead of being entwined in them. He holds them tightly. Like a prince.  _He_ is _a prince_ , you think, embarrassed that you forgot. You felt your face get hot but you didn't change your expression.

"Do you want me to read it now?" you ask, looking down at both your hands. "Or was it too embarrassing now?"

"No." He sighed. "I want you to read it. You might as well; you've read the others." He grabbed the note and handed it to you. "The others you might have described as  _love letters,_ but this one actually is." His face was on fire. You've never seen the god blush before, you realize. Not before today.

You gingerly take the paper, bringing it to your eyes to read it. You knew you probably should have expected this; he  _told_  you what was on the paper. But it still felt . . . perfect.  _I love you._

"I love you, too," you blurt. Both of you are silent and wide-eyed.

"You mean . . . romantically, yes?" he asks, his voice musical and soft. You nod. Of course, you did.

"Do you?" you ask him.

"Absolutely." He lifts his eyes to you. He's smiling, now. You take your hands away from his and cup his face. He's slightly stunned by that, but you couldn't care. You kiss him, bringing his face to yours.

He smiled against your lips, pulling you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to be quiet. (This  _was_  a library, after all.) He kissed you sweetly, with a hint of relief. It felt so nice to finally hear it from him.

"Loki," you whisper.

"Yes?" he asked, that voice of chocolate tickling your ear. "What, darling?"

"I knew it was you the whole time." You grin. He chuckled.

"Sure you did," he says. "I bet you were planning on sending me notes back."

"I was!" you laugh, nuzzling him. ". . . later."

**_THE END_ **


	20. Prince Charming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every little girl wants Prince Charming...or something like that. “Happy birthday, my princess.” I grinned at the mortal girl.

Today was going to be like any other day. Normal. Or bad. I had made sure that Loki didn’t remember. Or, I tried to make sure. No one was going to remember anyway, so what was the point? Except . . . they all would. I groaned into my pillow.

I rolled out of bed, not even glancing at my phone. I didn’t want to see the date. I didn’t want to be reminded about today.

Tony and Thor and Peter would want to throw me a large party. Steve and Bruce would buy me something thoughtful and I started to feel bad already. Nat would probably be the only one to mostly follow my wishes about today. (I hoped.)

Loki would most likely hover around me and spoil me beyond the stars.  _Without_ my permission, too. Shower me with whatever I wanted, go to ridiculous lengths to keep me smiling. Drop cute pet names like “darling” and stuff. My heart fluttered at the thought.

I sigh. Loki would  _not_  be able to spoil me today.

I stumbled to the bathroom to take a shower. I wasn’t even properly awake. I blinked my still-glued eyes furiously, trying to see. “I look like crap,” I mutter. “They will kill me today.” I wanted to die today.

I stripped, getting in the shower. I kept it quick, trying to make it as easy as possible to leave my apartment before the others came at like, eleven, or something.

I could hear car horns honking. I sigh. Today was going to be long. I wrap a towel around my body. As I walk out, I noticed something new. My eyes widened.

 _My dear,_  
 _Could you please wear this today? I had something special planned. I thought that you would like this, and maybe the . . ._ headdress  _along with it will spike some interest._

Underneath the note, there was a long, green and silver-laced dress. The sleeves were simply straps that hung on one’s shoulders.

( **Reference)**

Peeling above the top of the dress was a headband-crown-thing with Loki’s horns. Basically a more feminine version of his helmet, but not a helmet? It wasn’t gold, but silver. The top was missing.

What was he planning?

I glared at the fabric. It wasn’t something I would wear usually. . . . I debated in my head, but it was at least an excuse not to put on pants, today. I rolled my eyes, grabbed the dress, and started dressing.

***

I looked at myself in the mirror evilly. Loki seemed to know what would look good. Drat. I peered around the apartment. Where were my shoes? I looked in the spot where I left them; where my cat, Jingle, might have batted them. Nowhere.

Green satin heels sat by the door. I growled.  _Loki_! I huffed and slipped my only options on, surprised immediately. They were  _comfortable._  Like wearing pillows without the bulk.

“For the love of God,” I mutter. “Who told him?” I grabbed the stupid crown thingie as I made way to the stupid door. As I grabbed the handle, my hair flew into a beautiful hairstyle. I growled. Something told me he expected me to wear the horned crown.

I set it on my head, irritated. I couldn’t even each the top of the horns’ curve. As soon as I thought the words, the whole thing changed size to be a perfect fit. This, too, was comfortable.

He got a head start on the spoiling.

I finally turned the knob and made my way into the hallway. The neighbors weren’t out, so I didn’t get any weird looks. I held my breath as I went down to exit the building, peeking out the window only to see the bright sun. I was hoping for rain, maybe to muss my hair.

Not only was the sun out, but I saw a horse’s tail flick impatiently. Gold and green. I swallowed and walked outside. To see  _him._

**Loki POV**

No, I didn’t  _have_  to wear my armor today. I didn’t have to go and pick (Y/N) up from the apartments, either. I didn’t have to bring a horse, or buy her things. But I did. I did it, anyway.

Perhaps she had forgotten about today’s importance. Or, even better, she remembered, and I could fluster her as much as I liked. I knew that she might have dreamt about this when she was younger, or must have known someone who had.

Today, I was not just simply Loki of Asgard. I was Prince Loki, Son of King Odin. I grinned down at (Y/N), hoping my face wasn’t red from her beauty. “Hello, darling. A little bird told me that today was a special day.”

I slid off my horse, bowing down with a smirk. She folded her arms and pouted. I rose, kissing her hand. “Happy birthday, my princess.” I grinned at the mortal girl. She pulled her hand away.

“That’s not fair. I didn’t want to be celebrated,” she growled. She shook her head. “This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask for—”

“I rescued you from the others, dear. I’m your Prince Charming for the day.” I take her hand again as I bring her toward my horse. She flushed. I beamed. I leant in and whispered, “Or I’ll be your bad boy, if that’s more your thing.” She shoved me, rolling her eyes.

“Stop it,” she huffs. She turned to the horse. “How am I going to get up  onto . . . ?” I lifted her, and she yelped. She climbed onto him side-saddle. I smiled excitedly.

“Today shall be wonderful,” I vow, climbing on next to her. She wrapped her arms tightly around my waist. I was trying to make a scene, having the entire street celebrate with me. I saw some girls gape in jealousy, some men, too. I smirked in victory.  _My princess_ , I thought.  _Mine._ My success made me giddy, but because of an opposite cause. I could tell they were staring at _her_ , not me.

I think it was the fact that the was not only seen as I saw her, but I didn’t have to share her.

I told the horse to move, feeling (Y/N) grip tighter. I chuckled, turning so I could see her out of the corner of my eye. “Haven’t you rode before?” She shook her head, seeming to be panicked. “Don’t worry, darling. I would never let you fall.”

I made way down to the park, making sure to get some of my brother’s friends to see our wonderful lady by my side. He said they would be by that coffee shop,  _Avenger Beans_. As we passed, I caught a brief flash of Thor’s thoughts. He was admiring my lady, with some death threats directed toward me. He was jealous, too? Glorious.

“Loki, look, it’s Thor!” (Y/N) giggled. She waved. Thor waved back. I rolled my eyes. Thor . . . always the ladies’ choice. I looked back at (Y/N), thinking about being nice to my brother for once. Maybe my princess would smile more.

“Would you like to say hello?” I ask. She shook her head, her face dark at my suggestion. My heart skipped a beat. “Why not?” I press, arching a brow. I puckered my lips.

“I’m spending my birthday with my Prince Charming?” She said it like it was a question, or stating the obvious. I felt my face grow hot, the corners of my mouth moving to my ears. She giggled again. She was probably humoring  _me._  But there was a possibility that she meant it. . . .

“You’re so easily amused,” she says. (Y/N) was wrong, but I didn’t tell her that. She was only of the only things (and people) I smiled for.

I watched as Thor glared at me. It felt nice to have claim to something he wanted just as badly as I did. (I didn’t just want her, I loved her.) I sat up a little higher than before, now that I could see his uncomfortable expression.  _This girl chose me_ , I thought with a realization. My heart beat hard.

“Where do you want to go, dear?” I asked. She pointed to Central Park. I looked back at her and grinned. She did too, but belatedly realized what I was up to. I bundled the horse’s reigns in my hands. Her eyes went wide as my lips tugged into a maniac’s smile.

“No, no, no, no!” she protested, but not in time. I snapped the reigns, and the horse ran. She laughed, holding on tightly. “Too fast!” I shook my head. She gripped my shoulders. My cape flapped as we sped by. She latched on to me.

“Never!” I laughed. “One day, you and I will ride on the steeds of Asgard! Much, much faster.” She held on more fondly at the mention of  _One day_. Perhaps she felt the same way that I did. She rested her head on my shoulder.

“You make it sound like I’ll marry you,” she said to me, her breath tickling my ear. She kissed my earlobe. I gave her a cheeky grin.

“Nothing is stopping you!” I laugh. She turned that dark, blushy color.  I beamed. “If I proposed right now, what would you do?”

“I haven’t heard one, so we’ll never know,” she replied. It was  _my_ turn to go red. I reigned in the horse, slowing us down. I slid off again, an idea coming to my brain. “Loki?”

“If I proposed right now, what would you do?” I asked again, serious instead of joking. She swallowed. Her thoughts were clear to me.  _What if this is a joke? Would he laugh if I told him I’d say yes?_  My heart beat rapidly. She would say yes?

“What would you do?” I ask again, desperate to hear the words from her mouth.

“I would say yes,” she starts, seeing my my face light up. “But I’d tell you I would want to hear you say how you feel about me first”—she slid off, too, into my arms—“get down on one knee”—(Y/N) wrapped her arms around my neck—“and pledge your heart to me like a fairytale bad boy prince.” She smirked at me.

I took her hands. I sunk to one knee. “(Y/N),” I start, doing exactly as she said, “I love you. I promise you my heart for as long as I live. I’d kill, as well as save, a planet for you. Will you be my princess, (Y/N)? Will you marry me?” I grinned as she tried hard not to laugh. Though we were both serious, this whole manner was unforgettable.

She looked around at the crowd of people who were watching. She blinked back happy tears. Had I truly made her cry? She took a deep breath, trying to speak, but ended up laughing and sobbing. She just nodded. “Yeah.”

I kiss her hands. “I don’t have a ring but—” I try to say, but she stopped me.

“The horns,” she joked. “Engagement crown.” She giggled, pulling me up. I wipe her eyes. She kissed me, standing on her toes. “How about this? It’s semi-official until you get a ring.”

“Excellent,” I agree. “Engaged to be engaged.” I kissed her forehead. “We only have so long, princess. Let’s hurry.” I lift her back onto the horse, following suite.

“Where did you get this idea?” she questioned, obviously about her birthday. “Why did you decide to do it  _this_  way?” I brought our horse into the gateway of the park as I thought about my answer.

“Nat said something about almost every little girl wanting to have a prince at least once. I kind of became obsessed with making a point.” I cleared my throat. “It was truly just a dare, though,” I lie. She nodded.

“Suuuure. And the silver?” she asked, kissing my neck. Was she distracting on purpose now?

“Just our colors, love. Silver and gold. Green to match.” I kissed her hand, getting down, and helping her as well. “I’ll park the horse.”

***

**Your POV**

I was still in the same outfit as before by the time we walked into the party. (It seemed there was no way of escaping it after all.) Tony walked in, beaming at Loki and I.

“You dressed up the birthday girl?” he asked, looking me over. Loki stood a little closer. It made me uneasy to be the very center of attention.

“Indeed. I also took her for a ride around the city.” Loki wrapped his arm around me. I felt my cheeks warm again. He kissed one of them before whispering something into Tony’s ear. His eyes widened.

“You—?” Loki nodded, cutting him off.

Tony quickly turned his focus on me, putting a box in my hand, pulling me by my other. “Come on, kid. I have everyone here now, so I need you to be the the guest of honor like you’re supposed to.” He drug me out to the living room where the other Avengers were, along with a mountain of presents. I swallowed. I looked behind me.

Loki didn’t follow. I frowned. I tried to look farther, but Tony turned me back to facing forward. “So how’s Reindeer Games?” Tony mutters, smiling. I flushed.

“He’s fine,” I squeaked. He led me over to the huge group of people. I moved as slowly as I could. “Tony did you really have to do this?” I whisper furiously.

“Yes,” he said. “Now go have fun.” An element was off, like he was hiding something. I vaguely wondered what it was. Was it what Loki said to him?

\----

“Open the next one,” Nat said happily. A book, definitely. From Nat and Clint. Okay. I ripped the paper. I grinned, against my own morals about books. Bruce had gotten me a necklace. Tony had bought me a dress. Thor made me a knife.

“ _Romeo and Juliet_?” I gasped. “Thank you!” I set it on the other presents I got. I looked behind me. I had heard a sound. “Does anyone know where Loki went?”

“NO.” Tony said that  _way_  too fast. I narrow my eyes. Thor was coughing on his coffee. Something was definitely up. The others looked at the two. I blindly accepted the next present from Nat’s hands, my eyes never leaving Iron Man and the God of Thunder.

“Okayyy . . . ,” I said. “Who is this from?” I was told by Sam.

We spent maybe another two hours doing presents before Loki walked in. He seemed nervous. I smiled at him as he sat down. My lover wrapped his arms around me. “Sorry for the delay. I had some business to take care of, princess.”

*** **Hours Later** ***

**Loki POV**

“Loki!” (Y/N) whined with happiness. “I said no more gifts.” She hung onto me. I chuckled, kissing her happy face. I tickle her bare back with my fingers. It had been several hours since we left the party, even more since we left the park. I had made sure not to ruin her lovely dress before it fell to her floor.

“Well, this one can slip by your order, my love,” I tell her. She sighed.

“Fine,” she spat. She snuggled into my bare blue chest, pulling up the covers, peeking up at me. I smiled softly, tucking her hair out of her face. “What is it?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Well, while Tony and Thor kept you busy, I went back to Asgard for an hour or so and was able to get my mother’s ring, and—”

“You what?” She sat up, eyes wide. I was afraid I had upset her. She covered her mouth in shock. “Your mother’s?” I nodded slowly.

“Yes,” I whisper, easing her back down. “It was the only thing I could think of that would be worthy for you.” She wrapped her arms around my neck lovingly, suddenly. I made a noise of surprise.

“Oh, Loki!” she cried, kissing my face. I kissed back, rolling on to my side. She kisses me so passionately.

“Would you like to see it?” I ask. She nodded. I took it out. She gaped.

“Loki, it’s beautiful,” she whispers. I slipped it on her finger.

“I love you,” I say.

“You’re my Prince Charming,” she giggled.


	21. What I Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He may have trouble sharing this with you

Loki tried to stay out of the cold as much as possible. After that fiasco, even if it was years ago, he didn't want to see anything change. No reminders of what he was. He couldn't do it.

He didn't want (Y/N) to find out, either. That's why he avoided going outside during the winter in general, at least without a jacket or something. He didn't even leave if he didn't have to. Thor called him out for it numerous times, but that didn't mean that he was going to own up to it. He remembered back, and he could recall his exact words being, "I carry knives for a reason, brother. To shut  _you_ up."

Thor didn't bother him after that.

Well, at least not about the cold thing.

"Can't you just tell (Y/N)?" he asked him, crossing his large arms and cocking his head like a dog. Loki rolled his eyes. He didn't expect his  _Asgardian_ brother to understand, much less someone who was raised to be what they were. Someone who was normal, or loved, or kind, or heroic, or any of that garbage.

"Why can't you just  _but out of it?"_ he spat. He tensed up. (Y/N) could never know the kind of monster that he was. She could never, ever know. She might realize the awful things that he had done were not because of being a bitter or drugged person. That it was in his blood; that he could never change; that he might do it again.

Again and again and again.

Thor didn't press him. He shook his head. Thor didn't realize it because he was an idiot, an oaf, an imbecile. (Y/N) had no clue about his true heritage, yet. Thor had assumed that Stark had told her, but Loki had gotten to him first.

Until Loki told his fool brother about his fears.

All of this was before Loki considered loving her.

" _Do not let her find out,"_  he hissed when he first—totally by accident—let it slip that he was in love with the newcomer. That girl. She didn't know Loki's secret, yet, and he wanted to keep it that way. He  _needed_  to know that he would have a chance if he wasn't the monster he was. As it turned out, much, much later, he was right.

He loved her. Needed her. Cherished her. But it was getting increasingly difficult not to tell the poor girl that she was in love with a murderous beast; one from a line of them, too. Hard to tell her that it was him she should be afraid of, not that he would stay. Hard to tell her that he  _would_  leave her if he got bored.

Because he was a monster.

"Why wouldn't you—?" Thor had started to say but quickly closed his mouth. Loki must have been showing more emotion on his face than he meant to. They locked eyes for a minute, Loki feeling painfully frightened and sick of himself.

What if (Y/N) stopped loving him for his history? His blood? Him _self?_

"You  _know_  why!" he whispered viciously. His grip tightened around his brother's shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric. Perhaps he was being too desperate. "If she finds out  _anything_ , I'll—"

"You'll take it and deal with it. It would mean nothing to her that you're a Jotun," Thor said. Loki shook his head. How could he say that word so easily?

"You're not the murderer, Thor! You don't have blood on your hands from your own actions and your families' actions!" He blinked back tears. "Whatever Odin or Hela did, you weren't included in it. Me?  _All_ of what I am is known for being lethal. Not just a bad family, Thor—a bad RACE!"

"Loki, you need to calm down," he reassured him. "I won't tell her, all right?"

It took Loki a second to take his hands off of Thor's shoulders. He gently pried them away to the best of his ability. He hung his head. ". . . thank you. . . ."

"You're welcome," Thor replied. He turned his head the other way. Loki froze up. Had someone been listening in?

No. No one had. Thank the Norns.

But that was a long time ago. Now, he was sitting with the very woman. It was dark, the rain outside hitting the window hard.  _Thunk, thunk, thunk_.  _Patter, patter, patter._  All at the same time. (Y/N) was snuggled up against him.

"Why don't we go outside, tonight?" she whispered. She pecked his face in an attempt to sway his unspoken  _No_.

"(Y/N), darling, you know I don't like the cold." He swallowed, hating to make her feel so disappointed. "Not to mention that it's raining awfully."

"And? It would be better than watching this awful show with you. I hate it, you hate it. The rain would be better, at least for a second." She thought for a minute. "Well, if the water was warm. But you know what I mean. I'm sick of being inside!"

"Well, I'm sorry to tell you," he started, "but I'm not going outside. You can, but I won't."

"Not even in the rain? Or the snow?" she pressed. "What is with you and even changing the temperature? Are you allergic to it or something?"

"You seem to have a problem with it all of a sudden," he noted. He saw (Y/N)'s irritation and suspicion written all over her face. He puckered his lips. "Have I really kept you in that long?"

"You have, actually," she said. Loki's heart ached. He knew where this was going. If he lied, again, he'd lose her for sure. But if he told her the truth, she would never speak to him again. "It's like you never want to leave if you're not going back indoors. You hate doing magic for me. It's like the more I ask personal questions, try to  _get to know_ the man I love, he clams up!"

She huffed, sitting up. Loki's chest tightened. "It takes two to make a relationship, work, Loki. 'Fess up."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," he said quietly. "You have a healthy past. Er, healthier than mine." He looked away. (Y/N) pressed her lips together, moving her legs under her. She knew something was up, definitely.

"Do you have some kind of Asgardian disease?" she asked, cocking her head. She reminded him of Thor, strangely. He fiddled with his fingers.

"I suppose you could say that," he mumbled. "Asgardian disease." He scoffed. He turned to her. Could he really tell her?

"Have you heard of Jotunheim?" he asked her, raising a brow.

"Yeah. Your brother told me about them. The Jotuns. And so did Odin, when I went. I heard a lot about them. Awful things, actually." She shuddered at the remembrance of the tales. Loki looked down. He needed to do this, he realized. Now, before she found out on her own.

"Could you please find me some ice? And my bag?" he asked. He bit his lip. "I'll tell you everything. You . . . you deserve it."

\- - - -

"Got it!" she yelled. "Why is it so heavy?" she asked. She had brought a tin of ice before she went to get the bag. She didn't understand, and he felt a massive hole in his chest now that he had to tell her.

"Nothing, dear," he says. He took a deep breath. He pushed the tin of ice on the table as he took his bag. He took out the Casket. She watched intently, but with obvious confusion.

His skin started to turn blue. She reached over to touch the Casket but withdrew as it burned. (Y/N) gasped.

"Don't touch it," he told her. Loki sighed. "I'm one of the only ones who can. And . . . it has nothing to do with being Asgardian, (Y/N)." He looked at her with red eyes, his skin entirely blue.

"You're a . . ."

"Yeah. A giant. A . . . Jotun." He disliked using the word. He didn't even want to be that. He didn't want to be anything. He just wanted to be something that wasn't from the depths of Hel.

He would rather be mortal than have the blood he did now.

"I was going to say Smurf, but okay." She smiled reassuringly. He knew she didn't mean it, that she was trying to be helpful and loving, but he also knew she felt afraid of everything he was, now. Everything Thor had told her. What that meant for her. For  _them_. "Have you hurt anyone?"

"Yes!" Loki exclaimed. "Yes, I've hurt people! I've—I've—I've  _killed_  innocents, I've tried to murder my brother on multiple occasions. I impersonated my father for an entire year, caused his death, let my actions pretty much destroy everyone I know."

Loki wiped his eyes, the whole weight of being this  _monster_ destroying him. "If I hadn't met you, I may not have wished to change, darling."

(Y/N) pressed her lips together. "You've hurt people?" she asked.

He nodded, cringing away from his lover.

"Innocents? For no reason?"

"Yes," he whispered. "Just—Just scream at me already."

"Why don't you just kiss me  _before_  I scream at you for being so—so— _idiotic_." She sighed. "This is terrible, I know. But suddenly your whole 'I'm adopted' thing actually makes sense. That wasn't sexy, you know."

Loki tried not to laugh despite the lump in his throat. She . . . She felt indifferent about his sins? What?

"Look, baby. You haven't done anything like that for no reason since you've been with me. I don't see a reason to leave you. I remember the attack on New York."

Loki had forgotten about that. "But that's—That's just—"

"Kiss me," she ordered. "You haven't hurt anyone without cause. You're not a monster. Besides, I thought you knew I knew."

He stood up tall, sending the Casket flying. "Why—isn't—this—bothering—you?" He said each word so quickly, but the formation was broken. "I'm just a monster! You can't just tell me I'm not!"

"You're not. You've made mistakes. Like anyone else."

He screamed in frustration. "Not everyone has  _murdered_!"

"And not everyone regrets it." She stands. "I love you, okay? It doesn't bother me. Really." She takes his hands. "Nothing that you did to protect yourself I could judge. Otherwise, I wouldn't have who I love most in this room with me."

She reached up to kiss him, but he shied away. He didn't think himself worthy. Not for someone like her.

"At this point, I'll never stop loving you." She pecked his cheek. "You're mine, Loki. Okay?"

"Even with the truth of what I am?" he whispered, needing to hear it.

"Blue skin or no." She smiled. 

And that, actually, was okay with Loki.


	22. Babysitting - II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Babysitting - I

Tony didn't come back until late that night.

Not that Loki noticed.

Loki was sleeping with the little girl in his arms.  _(Y/N)_. Her little round cheeks and happy smile. He hadn't planned on falling asleep himself. He actually thought that she was going to wake up and just continue being cute (or a nuisance). But watching her breathe in and out was actually hypnotizing in its own right, soothing him into a slumber as well.

In that slumber, he dreamt: The Norns were surrounding him yet again. They seemed to confirm his fears that yes, this little darling princess was his true match. But  _no_ , he would not feel romantic feelings until she was of age.

He felt embarrassment in that dream. How was he supposed to tell Tony that the Seers of Fate had just told him themselves that he was going to marry this baby when she was old enough?  _Without_  seeming like a . . .  _predator_?

He gasped awake when he felt a tap on his shoulder. "IT'S NOT MY FAULT!" he screamed, wincing as (Y/N) stirred in her sleep. Tony sighed.

"You were sleeping," he said. "Did you traumatize my kid? Teach her about knives? I left you with her with the benefit of the doubt; what did you do to her?" How wonderful. He barely trusted him for the night.

"Nothing, Anthony." He eased back down with the baby. "We didn't do any sort of things like that. I played a few games with her—ones  _you_  would approve of, Stark—and she practiced her words for a bit." He thought for a moment. "And I changed a few diapers."

"Did you feed her at all?" Tony pressed. He seemed to have been trying to find some kind of fault in Loki's babysitting job. He probably wouldn't. After all, Stark was the one who requested that Loki look after (Y/N) for the evening.

The darling little girl started waking up, yawning. She gripped at Loki's shirt, looking up at him. She smiled. "Lo-kee." She giggled, grabbing at his hair.

"Hello, precious. How was your sleep?" he asked, brushing some hair out of her face. She beamed, standing up on his lap, again. He felt his heart warm. "Your father is back, so I have to leave now."

"Nooo," she whined, bouncing. Tony blinked in surprise. Loki could read the flash of shock and disbelief going through his mind; it was probably wrong to say how much he enjoyed that. "Lo-kee, stayyyy."

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I can't," he says, lifting her and tossing his hair back. He pressed a kiss to her head. He stood up with her, then passed her to Tony.

"Daddy, make Lo-kee stayy. . . ?" she begged her father. Tony was, safe to say, flabbergasted. He clears his throat.

"Sorry, squirt. If he has to go, he has to go." Loki silently thanks him, tells her goodbye, and left. As he walked out, he could hear the whine, something she definitely got from Tony, " _Daaaaadddyyyy_. . . ."  
  
\- - - -  
  
Time Skip. Fourteenth birthday.  
  
\- - - -

"Loki!" A little girl he considered as a sister ran up to him, jumping into his arms. Oof. She was getting too big to do that. "Loki, you came!" She giggled, hugging him around his neck. Her hair was starting to get longer than usual, and she carried a miniature version of his brother's hammer. So Thor had beat him here.

Show-off.

"Of course, I came, my darling. Why wouldn't I?" he smiled, setting her down and holding her hand. He hadn't aged a day since he had baby-sat her, but she was getting so much older . . . and he was going to watch her die.

"Thor said you might be busy," she huffs. She tossed hair. (Y/N) was maturing. "I didn't know if that was true or not. Besides; you'd miss my wedding!"

His heart fluttered at the words. Wedding? But she was only fourteen! Surely Midgard stopped the child-weddings a long time ago. "Oh?"

"Yeah! I'm gonna be marrying Tikker." Tikker was her very first invention. A clock. A play on the word ' _ticker_.' She looks at him oddly. "What did you  _think_  I meant?" she asked, arching a very professional-looking brow.  _That's Pepper's_ , he thinks.

"I think you meant you were going to marry someone for real," he says with a smirk, like he was teasing. He winks, making her go,  _"EWWW."_

"Loki, I don't wanna marry anyone real. All the boys in my class are gross!" she states. She set her other hand on her hip. Sassy much? "Have you  _seen_  Ryan? Just because his dad was Captain America doesn't make him cute." (Y/N) was odd when it came to boys (or girls). She never let anyone hold her hand, except Loki and her mother. She only allowed four people to ever kiss her face. (Again, Loki, Tony, Pepper, and Thor.) She rarely let her friends hug her.

She was sort of small for her age, but she was just a perfect girl for him.

"Well, who said they had to be in your class?" he asked her. He smirked wider. He knew what the future held for her. But no big deal. He didn't feel that way, yet, and neither did she. "There are princes who'd marry you~."

"That's messed up, Loki," she announced after she figured out what he meant. "I'm not marrying someone who's a hundred times my age."

"I was kidding. I'm not marrying a fourteen year old," he said, squeezing her shoulders lovingly. "You're like my sister, and Thor's married to Sif. . . . Do you know any other princes?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Unless you count my dad, he's probably gained that status somewhere."

The both of them laughed even harder.

"Guess what I brought you," he said, grinning mischeviously. She stops, eyeing him suspiciously. Loki held his other hand behind his back before she could see.

"What," she asked, arching a brow.

"You have to guess," he says simply. "Come on, princess."

"Money."

"No."

"Chocolate?"

"Nope," he laughed.

She huffs. "What, then? I don't really have much else to ask for since dad went out of his way to buy literally  _everything_." She seemed a little overwhelmed. It was obvious, yes, that she adored her father for everything he gave her, but she feel the need for it all.

He pulled a pink rose out from behind his back. She blushed and grinned. "That's so not allowed," she says, taking it gingerly. Loki smiled brightly. His heart raced.

"By the way you took it, I'd say otherwise."

"Shut up . . . don't you have somewhere to be?" she asked, smirking. He huffed.

"Oh, shush. I made it for your birthday, sweetling. Now." He lifted her. "Let's go get some cake!"


	23. Babysitting - III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final part

(Y/N) blew out the candles on her cake. Everyone cheered. Four more years had passed. Exactly. Loki seemed to be her age, and he felt his heart tug when she smiled at him from across the room. (Y/N) looked happy, her boyfriend Ryan Rogers at her side. Loki swallowed. Now that she was an adult, now that he was in love with the way the Norns intended, everything made his heart race. The words "I love you" were always associated with her face.

How the hell would he tell her father? The man he threw out a window? How could she see that he loved her like that? And how could Loki tell Stark?

He couldn't watch. Couldn't think. He smiled back sadly before staring back at the floor.

(Y/N) didn't seem happy about that. But he could care less.

He watched her smile as a baby, as a toddler, as a teen. Now she was a young adult, and she didn't need him. Not yet. The Norns had said that they would be together, someday. And he would stay with her until then. Even if she didn't love him, or if he moved on. He had to keep his promises. At least once.

"Hey, Reindeer Games," Tony said quietly, eating a blueberry. Loki jumped, his face feeling dark and hot. Where the hell did  _Stark_  come from? Loki swallowed. Uh-oh.

"Are you doing okay?" he asked him, taking another piece of the fruit and popping it into his mouth. Loki stared at him, puzzled. That wasn't the reaction that he was expecting.

"What?" he asked, trying to pretend like it wasn't obvious. Tony gestured back to his daughter and the Captain's son. He gave him a look that stated  _You like her, bro._ How righter could he be? Loki felt his heart sink. So it  _was_  that obvious. He stared at the floor.

"Listen, I've been trying not to think about this for a while," Tony started, keeping his voice low and quiet, "but you're in love with my daughter, aren't you? With (Y/N)?"

Okay, that was like a punch in the gut. Loki wasn't sure how to respond other than, "So very much," which he wasn't sure if he said that aloud or in his head. But by Tony's reaction, it was aloud.

"Oh, sh—," he began, but quickly swallowed the blueberry he almost choked on. Loki winced at that. "You are?" His eyes popped. "You're in love with her? Hey, you need to go and tell her, like,  _now_ , before she ends up with Capsicle's kid for good."

Loki's eyes widened. "Listen, no—," he tried. Tony wouldn't have it. He was pushing Loki toward her already. "Seriously, Anthony—"

"Tell her!" he insisted. "Now!"

"Tony, please. Stark. Anthony." He turned and held the old man's wrists. "Listen, I have something very important to tell you. Please don't be angry with me; I didn't really know how to break the news to you. But it seems I must, now. . . ."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tony spat. "What do you mean? Have you been in love with her since she was a baby?!"

"No! No, not romantically, at least . . . that was very recent, Stark." He swallowed. "I've been fated to spend my life with her. In anyway possible I shall fulfill that. It does not matter if she's married or not; it's my choice to love her the way I do. And I will tell (Y/N) in my own time."

Someone dropped their fork. Both Tony and Loki turned. Bruce. "You're in love with (Y/N)—?" he tried to ask, but it was muffled half-way through by Steve. Loki mentally groaned. The whole family was by him, weren't they?

"Shh!" Steve said. "Quiet."

"What's quiet?" Nat asked, popping next to them. Everyone's heads swiveled to Natasha. Loki wanted to curse. They were popping up everywhere, weren't they? 

"Why aren't you guys doing presents?" Clint asked. [Insert camera flying to Clint's face.] "I thought we were doing presents."

Thor clapped Clint on the back. "The only present here is the confession we've been waiting to hear from Loki's mouth," he said with a very angled glare at his brother. Loki felt his stomach drop in fear. There was absolutely no way he was going to escape this, was there?

"Are you talking about Loki's feelings for (Y/N)?" Vision asked, standing closer. Wanda's eyes flew open in shock. Loki was about to scream. Oh, wait—he did scream.

"I do  _not have feelings_ for  _(Y/N)!"_ he shouted. (Y/N), from across the room, saw everyone crowding around her best friend. Loki barely noticed, yes, but the effect was still terrifying.

**Your POV**

"I do  _not have feelings_ for  _(Y/N)!"_ you heard him scream. You immediately looked up at Loki. Your family was surrounding your best friend. His face was bright red and his hands were up like he was about to cast a spell.  _Defense mode_ , you think. Of course, Loki didn't love you. Why would he?

You were his sister, weren't you?

Ryan poked your side. "(Y/Nickname), are you okay?"

You nod. "Yeah . . . it's fine." But it wasn't fine. Ryan could tell.

Ryan wasn't your boyfriend, anymore, but he was still one of your best friends. Someone who you trusted dearly. You had broken up on good terms two nights ago. The whole crush thing had been over for a long time before then. You just didn't talk to your parents about it because they thought you still wanted each other.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyebrows creasing in worry.

"P-Positive," you swallow. You had a vague memory of Loki holding you as a child, calling you sweet names and napping with you. But of course, that wasn't what it was supposed to be like. You weren't going to be that little girl forever.

You had to grow up.

You sigh, standing up. "I need a moment," you whisper, just barely audible enough for Ryan Rogers to hear you. He nodded. 

He gave you the last present, saying, "Don't open it, yet. It's from Loki." The words barely registered as you tried not to cry. You nodded, holding the small box close. The scripted words  _I love you_  meant so little but so much.

Your big brother, practically. That's how he thought of himself, that's all he was going to be. You had to get over that fact.

You ran out the door.

**Loki's POV**

"Now look what you did!" Thor said, smacking him upside the head. Loki cradled the wound, hissing. "Go and get her!"

"Listen, it's—it isn't—," he desperately tried, but now he had upset the Avengers themselves. All of them. Again.

"GO." All eight of them said it at once. The only people who weren't here were Sam and Bucky, but they had good reasons not to be here. Bucky was having a mandatory surgery of some sort, and Sam was at a reunion that he left for a week ago.

Loki nodded, cursing himself for what he was about to tell her, the lie he was about to come up with. But it dawned on him. (Y/N) ran out because. . . .

He started laughing. Ryan looked up from the mess he was cleaning. The Avengers gaped. Thor and Tony marched toward him, but he held his hand up. He looked toward Ryan.

"You knew about this?" he grinned, but it was a bittersweet grin. Ryan, looking relieved, nodded. He walked over to Loki. Tony and Steve's jaws dropped.

"Yes, but she may change her mind if you don't do something." Ryan gave him a clap on the back, which for a moment made Loki wince as he remembered why (Y/N) ran out.

"Of course. I'll go," he said, dashing out the door.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(Y/N) was crying in her private place. Somewhere that only Loki knew of. She was sitting, head in her knees, murmuring about how she was stupid, how it was all a mistake. Loki's heart thumped. Her hair was covering her face, her lips quivering before she covered her eyes with her hands and tried not to sob.

His guess was that she sobbed fairly hard already.

(Y/N)'s cries hurt him, but he smiled as he realized that, for the first time, he knew that their feelings were exactly the same. Loki felt protective, she felt rebellious. He wanted to evade her, she was attached. He fell in love, and . . . she had a boyfriend.

But now? He was all hers, she was all his. He felt his heart glow.

He gently knocked on the closest surface. "Knock, knock," he said, loud enough for her to hear.

"Leave me alone!" she shouted, covering her face more. "I don't—I don't need to—"

"Darling, you know I didn't mean it," he said softly, sitting next to her. She moved farther away. He sighed. "Darling."

"Don't call me that," she said through her arms. "You don't have feelings for me. It's fine. . . I don't care, anymore. . . . You're a god, I'm mortal, it wouldn't work, anyhow."

Oh. Right.

Mortal.

That’s right. She was mortal, and he was a god.

Loki bit his lip. “I do have feelings for you, (Y/N).” He sighs. “I have since you were fifteen. My physical age is nineteen, now. . . . I can’t bear this anymore. You were like my daughter, then my sister, and now I want you as my lover. (Y/N), I used to babysit you. I watched you sleep and eat and I swear I’m insane.” He buried his face in his hands.

She looked up slowly. “You aren’t insane. . . .” Loki shook his head.

“I’m sick! I—” He shut his mouth. Loki stood up, pacing around the tree. She watched him, he ran his hands through his hair. “I knew I wanted you from when you were an infant, (Y/N); why would you want someone like me?”

“Because I know that you wouldn’t still be here if you had really done anything,” she whispered. “You were my best friend for years. Let me love you for once!”

“I’m not saying you can’t!” Loki leaned on the tree, just above her. She stood up, sandwiched between the bark and himself. His forearm was next to her head, eyes soaking her in. She was beautiful to him. More than that, if he was truthful. Perfect.

She set a hand on his hip. “Let me in, you idiot,” she begged quietly, her other hand holding his face.

Loki swallowed, lips parting without his consent. Loki leaned in gently. “Rich man’s pride,” he whispered, and (Y/N) closed her eyes. He pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her gently. Then it wasn’t gentle, it was full of passion. His mouth opened and closed and moved perfectly against hers. Her lips were soft and warm, and Loki had to refrain from making noise as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“What?” (Y/N) mumbled into his mouth. Loki kissed her deeply once more, pulling away from her to breathe.

“Nothing . . . but I’m not babysitting you, anymore,” he laughs, grinning. She chuckled.

“Does Dad know?”

“Yes,” he answered quietly with a smirk.

“Uncle Steve?”

He nodded.

“Thor and Bruce and everyone else?”

“All eight.”

She giggled and kissed him firmly before running back in. “Okie dokie, Loki.” She winked and ducked behind the door. Loki sighs contently. He was a rich man, wasn’t he? She was his pride.

Loki almost did lose her, too. Like the Norns had said. His heart swelled. There was _one_ problem he still needed to fix. He went to find Thor, the new Allfather.

\------------------------------------

“Okay, okay, I’m sure I understand, now,” Thor says after Loki explained his wish. “You want me to shorten your life?”

Loki nodded, a little nervous. “If it’s possible.” He swallowed. (Y/N) couldn’t find out, not yet. Thor looked a little sad.

“It’s definitely possible,” he started, “but is this really what you want?” His eyebrows knit together and his blue eyes pleaded with his brother to try and reconsider. Loki nodded, chest swelling.

“A life without Stark’s daughter would be a dead one already,” he says, fidgeting with his hands. He blushed darkly, a silly smile on his face. “Take what I am . . . and make it fit for her.” He looked at his brother with a determination you rarely see, except only in a faithful, sure man.

Thor nodded, sighing. “Okay,” he allowed. He took Loki’s hands. “By the power of the Allfather, I take your life and turn it to a mortal’s span.” There was some shaking, some moving, and a lot of pain, but Loki felt . . . mortal. And he finally felt right.

“Thank you, brother,” he smiled. “Thank you so much. . . .” He hugged him. “I shall never forget this deed.”

“I hope not. Now go get her,” he laughs. He clapped his shoulder. “I’ll be at the wedding, yes?”

“Shut up,” he grinned, laughing. “I have to hope she won’t kill me, first.” He waved, walking off.

Loki was going to live and love happily ever after. He was sure of it. And he was never going to doubt the Norns  _ever_  again.

**END.**


	24. You’d Have to Pay Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander Hamilton

You sat in Loki's lap as you watched Thor and Bruce play with the Legos you bought them for Christmas. "No, Thor, you gotta put the bricks together  _gently_ ," Bruce told him, trying not to get frustrated while he pulled apart the Legos Thor stuck together again.

They were sitting on the carpet of your apartment, you and Loki on the couch. Bruce was in a sweatshirt and jeans, Thor almost the same except he had tighter clothes on and a hammer in his lap. Loki wore a tweed jacket and had his hair in a high ponytail. You were wearing your favorite comfy outift with a mug of your favorite hot beverage in hand.

"I  _did_ that," Thor protested. "Perhaps they should not be so stick-able." He puffed out his chest, his man-bun bouncing as he crossed his arms and looked away from those 'insufferable tiny bricks'. He picked up the little minifigure and studied it as Bruce finally ripped them apart, his fingers green. Hulk had helped. 

"Thor," Bruce tried, hoping to get the prince's attention again. Thor promptly ignored him. You saw the look that Bruce gave Thor, and you refrained from laughing. Poor Bruce. Loki laughed in your ear, his breath tickling you.

"Oh, dear." Loki snuggled into you more. "What a predicament. Right, darling?" He sat up with you. You groan. Loki, dropping the pet names again. You weren't dating. Loki and you . . . You and Loki. You had an odd relationship, especially because he was insistent that you wouldn't be anything official unless it was fiancés. And you were fine with it.

"I told you not to call me anything," you complained. 'Especially since you don't want to be anything,' you add mentally. Just so he heard and Bruce and Thor didn't. Loki smiled smugly. You huffed, crossing your legs in annoyance. 

"The only predicament," Thor said, glaring at Bruce again, "is how you two won't marry."

You felt Loki stiffen. You laughed. "I'm working on it," Loki argued. You rolled your eyes. Loki was the love of your life, but there was no way that you were marrying him. He was insufferable! Whiny. Living with him forever? And you were an agent, to top it off.

"The hell you are." You looked at him. "You'd have to pay me to marry you."

He smirked. "How much?"

Your smile fell. "What?"

"How much do I have to pay?" He got out a ten dollar bill. "Because I do have more to give." You were red in the face, but you took the money anyway.

"The. . . . That's enough," you whisper, smiling as you ducked your head. Of course he saw through your bluff. You cried silently, but happily, as he pulled you closer with his arms around your waist. You loved him. So, so much.

"Then I'm over the moon." He kissed you. You smiled against his lips. "Forever and always."


	25. Hands Like Yours

The baby was due any moment. You could barely register any thought as you tried your hardest not to have them yet. “Loki!!” you yelled. “Loki, come quick!!” The god came barreling into the room. You held your bump. Baby. Baby was coming.

“Yes?!” You heard his voice from the other side of the hallway, his footsteps running into your room. Your husband seemed to be in more of a panic than you were. You melt some as you see him approach—but not enough because your next contraction came.

You hiss in pain, holding your bump tighter. “My water broke,” you manage. He rushed to you. Everything was going too fast. This baby was gonna be here too quickly, weren’t they?

“Do you have time to get to a hospital?” he asks, holding your hand and helping you out the door.

“I don’t know!” You studied the hand you held. The one that belonged to the father of your baby. It held yours tightly, turning blue because you were gripping so hard and you both were so nervous.

You loved his hands.

“We’ll make it, darling,” he promised you. You nodded.

“Just don’t freeze me, okay? Or I may have to call Thor for hand-holding duty,” you half-joke. Thor promised to be there; you were going to make him. His niece/nephew would be arriving any minute, now.

“Thor! Oh, my love,” he said, kissing your forehead and running to the phone in a scurry. You were about to remind him that Thor didn’t have one, but he skidded back and started squawking out the window. His legs hung off the sill as he reached out, barely holding on. You watched in almost horror.

“Honey, what are you—?” you tried to ask. More squawking. A big, black raven came into your window, settling on your husband’s arm. You stumbled back, holding in your scream from the next contraction.

He made more noises to the bird. “Get Thor, and tell him the baby’s coming, please. . . . I’ll pay you tenfold if you can get him within the hour.” The bird screeched and flapped, flying back  _out_ the window. Loki ran back over to you, hurrying you out.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Push!” The midwife yelled over your screams. “I see the head!” You did it again, the yelling in the room insane. Loki held your hand and told you things that you couldn’t hear, probably cursing about how tight you were gripping his fingers.

You have one last push, one last scream, and the baby was caught.

Loki took the wailing child, hushing them and rocking them. “Oh, hello!” he whispers, stroking their face. They cooed, holding his fingers. His smile was broad and happy. Your chest heaves tiredly, happily. “My precious girl. . . .” A girl. You beamed. Oh! A girl!

Loki handed your child to you. You looked at your daughter with dazzling ruby eyes and hands that were shaped like Loki’s. You smiled at your glittering baby. “You have Daddy’s hands,” you say, holding her close. “Ready to eat?”

She cooed. You ready her for breastfeeding, Loki sitting there and watching you two. You smiled at him. “She’s got to have a name,” you whisper. He nods.

“Yes.” His hands are blue, again. He was nervous. And he was looking at them nervously, too. “Do you . . . do you still think my hands are . . . are good? For our baby?” He looked up at you with obvious worry. You bit your lip, ignoring the question.

“What do you think about Libitina?” you ask, trying not to make up your mind at the moment. You weren’t even sure. You didn’t want him to freeze your baby. You didn’t want to have to worry about that. But he was a frost giant with no control over the ice powers.

“(Y/N).”

“Or Sarah?” You bit your lip as your daughter pulled away. Loki didn’t seem to like your dilly-dallying.

“ _(Y/N).”_

You looked at your husband. The only person that you couldn’t live without. Your everything. You thought about what to do, what to say . . . Loki was sensitive, and now, you had a child to care for. Frankly, no matter how much you loved Loki, no matter how much you needed his help and him himself, you needed to make a decision for your family.

You didn’t know  _what_  to do. But until Loki could control it. . . .

You set your daughter in the crook of your arm. You beckoned him over. “Listen, Loki. . . . There’s nothing else more perfect for our baby than your big, stupid, warm and blue and soft hands.” You were dead tired, your baby was fussing still from just being an hour old. Loki looked worried. You knew that he followed your train of thought — literally.

“(Y/N), my love, don’t ask it,” he pleaded. “When I married you, I had no intention of divorcing you . . . think about this.” Tears made his voice thick. “Please. Please, don’t.”

“Loki, you know that you’re my everything,” you say, “and I really don’t want to. . . .” You swallowed your own lump in your throat. “I’ve even gotten frostbitten by you, Loki.” You caressed your daughter’s face. “She could die from that. I want to let you stay, I want to so badly.” You felt your world crumble as you uttered the words. “But I think, just for a little while, we end the marriage.”

Loki stood, shaking his head. “Please, I urge you,  _please_ think about this,” he begged, a tear slipping from his eyes. “She’s half Jotun, too.” You shake your head.

“I have been thinking about it, Loki. For months. If you could learn to control the ice, it would be a different story. But this morning you froze the door, you made my hair grow frost, and you made our sheets so cold they became brittle and ripped.” You felt horrid. “I don’t want our baby to be part of any accident made by hands like yours.”

He nodded. “I . . . I see your point.” He sighs. “No custody, I assume?”

You were quiet. Loki wiped his face. “I see.”

“I don’t want to take that from you,” you say, crying now. “I love you, I love your hands, I love everything about you. But you’re dangerous to our child, and I don’t want to take dangerous risks.” You hoped that he understood what you were trying to do. Trying to  _say_.

“Listen, my love, I understand.” He wouldn’t look at you. “I’m a Jotun. Our baby is fragile. I could kill her.” He kissed you once, twice, three times before pulling away and kissing your girl’s head and smiling sadly at her.

“I love you, baby,” he said to her, almost falling apart. Quiet tears fell and his voice shook. “I love you so, so much.” His hands turn blue and he pulled away.

“Goodbye, my lover, my daughter.” He left the room after signing the birth certificate. You were crying too. You nod and sob softly.

“Skype,” you blurt.

“What?”

“We can Skype,” you say, wiping your eyes. “She can still see her father. . . . I can still talk with the love of my life . . . I can’t take everything from you, can I?” He smiled and nodded.

“No. I-I suppose not.” Loki sniffed. “I’ll still be able to see you, right?”

You nod. “Of course.” You laugh sadly. This wasn’t the end. It was a necessary precaution. Right?

\--------***--------  
~Six Years After~  
\--------***--------

“Mummy, Mummy!” (D/N) said as she ran through the hallway. “Is Daddy really gonna be able to come over?!” Her little smile was brighter than the sun to you. She had been seeing her dad more and more, and you’ve been seeing him, too (though when you did, it wasn’t innocent like when he was over to be Daddy).

You lifted your daughter. She was getting so excited, she was turning blue. She only made the temperature around her cooler, and she had more sorcery than ice, anyway. “Yes, he is, pumpkin. We’ve been talking, and we came up with something we hope you’ll like!”

She tried to read your mind. Her eyes went all squinty, that’s how you could tell. You hated when she did that. But she was Loki’s daughter. You sang her favorite song in your head hoping that she would give up. And she hadn’t asked about the new adornment on your hand, either.

“That’s not fair,” she whines. “Mummy, I want to know!” She had a partial accent, like her father. She enjoyed seeing Thor all the time, too, which contributed to the accent. She and Loki also demanded about two hours of Skyping each night too. Just before bed.

The door opened, and her eyes lit up. “Daddy, you’re home!” She ran into Loki’s arms, and he lifted her up high. (D/N) wrapped her arms around his neck. Loki cradled her neck.

“And I’m not leaving, either, my princess.” He kissed her cheek. You rolled your eyes at your previously ex husband.

“You weren’t supposed to tell her until after the party, you dolt,” you hiss. He shakes his head, smirking.

“Hey, the last time I listened to you, I lost six years of the best years of my life: my wife and daughter,” he teased, kissing you. You kissed back, and (D/N) gasped.

“You guys got married?!”

You pulled away and nodded. Loki gave his crap-eating grin. (D/N) smiled brightly and hugged you both. You hugged your family. Loki laughed happily. Your heart swelled.

“I love your hands,” you tell your husband, as a gentle hint to six years ago. The promise that the split was never more than temporary. He kissed your temple.


	26. That’s Mine - Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the only chapter different from the wattpad version kiddos

“Hey, uh, Loki, are you going to—?” you started to ask, opening the door to his room. You stopped short. What the . . . ?

Loki looked at you innocently. “Oh. Hello, (Y/N).” He was holding your bra out as if he were studying it, lifting it by its straps. You take a hesitant step inside.

“Is that my bra?” you ask him, gaping. He doesn’t answer, just staring at the undergarment. “That’s my bra. Isn’t it?”

“Well, it certainly isn’t mine,” he says to you. Loki tossed it back to you. “I found it in here. I wish to know what your clothing was doing in my quarters; I don’t ever recall inviting you in here, either.”

You took your bra back. “Well, first off, Tony sent me in here. Second—” He cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“I’m aware. I meant about  _that_.” He points to your brassiere. “I don’t know what you were doing in here that involved stripping your clothes, (Y/N), but I wish to know whom it was with and why it was in  _my_ room.” He looked at you in a sort of disgust.

“Excuse me?” You scoff. “Are you accusing me of sleeping with someone?” You gape at him. Who did he think he was? Loki rolled his eyes.

“I believe I said that, yes,” he says. Loki crossed his arms. “I understand that your sex life is none of my business, but if it’s happening in my living space, I believe I have the right to complain!” Loki’s face was red. Was he that angry?

You felt your jaw drop at his blames. Loki was just assuming things, now? He walked over to you, staring at you like you were a rodent that smeared on the road. How  _dare_ he think that! You clenched your fists as you turned.

“I can’t believe you!” you shout. You shake your head and walk out. Loki blinked and gasped quietly in offense. Hell, he just called you out for sleeping with someone in his room . . . Something you did NOT do! “For being a mind reader, you’re being  _really_  stupid!”

You moved quickly, heading back to your own room in Avengers’ Tower. You bit back angry tears. Did he really think so lowly of you? To just be reckless? You grumbled things you didn’t hear yourself. Mostly curses, though.

“So who is it, then?” he asked, following you out. “Is it Anthony? Sam?” He caught your wrist, fire burning in his eyes. You glared at him when he turned your chin to his face. He didn’t do it roughly, or even hold you in a painful way, but it was just so ridiculously light.

You didn’t have time to deal with this nonsense.

“Tony is married,” you say, voice shaking in anger. “Sam isn’t my type. And before you suggest it, Thor is like my big brother.” You shove his hands off. “I don’t know how my bra got in your room, Loki. Maybe Vision was doing laundry, again, and thought it was yours; you were female a lot last week.” You take a deep breath and step away.

“I . . . I suppose you could be right,” he said. He smoothed out the non existent wrinkles in his suit. “I . . . apologize for my behavior, (Y/N).” He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Loki had never looked so embarrassed. You felt a little relief from that. He deserved worse than embarrassment.

You don’t say anything else. You just go back into your room and shut the door. Lock it. Loki could screw off. This was your life and Loki had no reason to freak out about what you did.

After all, he did things on his own as well. Loki, the sleeper, getting mad at you for accidentally having your clothes in his room? You’ve never fooled around before, and Loki didn’t need to jump to conclusions like that! Didn’t he know that you—?

You cut the thought off. Just a crush, you tell yourself, knowing it was a lie. But it did soothe your anger, that lie. If you didn’t love Loki, you’d have no reason to get mad at him.

Right?

“Just a crush,” you whisper to your racing heart. You closed your eyes.

 _Loki could screw off. Loki could screw off. Loki could screw off._ You began to fall asleep.

\----------

“Oh. Brother, where is Sister (Y/N)?” Thor said to me when I sulked into the living room. The Captain, Anthony, Banner, Barton and Natasha were sitting around the table with their ‘take out,’ whatever that was. My heart pounded with a large amount of . . . whatever this cursed feeling was. I shot him a dirty look.

“She wished to be alone,” I said, crossing my arms and standing still. I puffed my cheeks out in frustration. I remembered painfully why she wanted to stay away from me. I looked up meekly. “I . . . I may have offended her.”

“ _‘May_ have’?” Thor asked, standing up with a growl. I swallowed. “What did you do to her?” I took a step away. I raised my hands up in intimidation.

“It—It’s an embarrassing story,” I manage, quieting down. “I may have accused her of, ah, using my room for . . . pleasures with someone. . . .” My face felt hot and there was a knot in my stomach.

Thor’s hands twitch as I hear this obvious threat:  _I’ll wring your neck._ I give him a small smile: a helpless, nervous smile. I took one step back, and he grabbed me in a choke hold.

“Listen . . . Brother! I-it was not . . . something that I . . . am proud . . . of,” I strain as his grip becomes tighter around my neck. I claw at his hands. He threw me across the room.

“Apologize!” he barked. “Now!” I flinched at the volume, but nodded in agreement. I changed my clothes and scratched my head where it was hit, ruffling it some.

I walked over to her room, taking a deep breath. Here goes. . . .

\----------

“(Y/N)?” There was a knock on the door. You sat up a little. You wiped your eyes.

“Yes?” you ask, voice dead. You didn’t want to talk to him. You hugged your knees. “What do you want, Captain Nosey?” You glared at the door as it opened. His hair was ruffled like someone had pulled it oddly, his button up wrinkled. What did he do? When did he change clothes?

Loki winced when he saw how angry you were. You didn’t care. He had some nerve to come in here. He gave a nervous smile, but it looked more like a grimace of pain.

“I came to talk,” he said, closing the door as he slipped inside. He looked down sheepishly. You gave him an ice cold stare.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you protest, turning over. Not facing the man who you wanted to love you back. But it would never happen. Loki sat down on the bed. You pulled the covers over you farther. Loki sighed, fidgeting.

What? Loki must have really felt terrible if he was fidgeting that crazy. . . .

“I want to apologize,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “and confess that I was . . . jealous. When I found your bra in my quarters.” He laughed quietly. You blushed at the thought. Loki, jealous? Those words weren’t surprising together, but he had no reason to get jealous over  _you_.

You waited a long time before responding. “Jealous?”

“Yes.” He laughed sadly. “I’m a coward, not even hinting at how I feel, then I react to you finding someone else attractive like a threat.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Thor threw me across the room for even  _thinking_  that you would do something so scandalous as having sex with someone in my quarters.”

You turned over slowly. “That’s why you were jealous? Loki, are you stupid?” You lay on your back. He turned toward you. Took your hand gently in both of his.

“Possibly,” he chuckled.

“Listen, Loki,” you start, laughing in disbelief, “I don’t have a sexual relationship with anyone. And, um, if it  _were_ to be someone you know, it would be someone you know very well.”  _Namely, you_ , you think.  _I love you._  You sat up.

His jaw dropped. He looked at you up and down. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t read your mind and make you say that verbally.” He sat closer to you.

Here went nothing. “. . . I love you,” you whisper. “I’m in love with you.”

He beamed brightly. “I love you too, actually. Now. Could I possibly—” You slapped him. “What was that for?!”

“For not hinting at it? For making me try to get over you?!” He blinks. Grabs your face. And kisses you. Kisses you softly but roughly, deep but light. Chaotic and perfect all at once and you feel your heart ready to explode as you kiss back.

He pulled away. “I’m sorry for upsetting you, darling,” he said softly, brushing your hair out of your face and standing up. He turned toward the door. You caught his hand.

“Wait.”

He looks at you, again. “Yes?”

“Please . . . ,” you whisper. “Stay.” Loki smiled softly. He sat down next to you.

“For how long?” His voice was soft and his hands found yours . . . and so many other places, too. You pulled him into a soft kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair. Loki wrapped his arms around you.

“Until I say,” you tease against his lips. You pulled him down. Loki laughed lightly and pulled you closer. You felt him kiss your neck, your jaw, that soft spot behind your ear. His lips were light and soft.

“Shall I lock the door?” Loki asked, tickling your back and neck with his fingertips. He kissed you again. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt your clit begin to throb. One of his hands traveled to your waistband. You whimper.

“Yes . . . Yes, lock it,” you whisper. . . . This was going to be fun. You needed this . . . After all his torturing _, you needed this._

He got up quickly to do as you asked, and your body ached to have him back. Your arousal was starting. You bit your lip.

“What’s wrong, my pet?” he taunted, kissing your neck again, but at the base of your throat where it was sensitive. His deep laugh rumbled and vibrated up your skin. You sighed. He slipped a finger into your folds to rub your bundle of nerves, making you emit a noise just shy of a cry.

You laid back, letting him worship your body as you soaked in his touch. Your fingers tangled in his wispy and soft raven hair. He gently, teasingly ground his growing member against your blood-rushed, stimulated womanhood. A warm feeling, like a hot growing pit started to grow inside you as he inserted his fingers and pumped slowly.

He turned your face toward his and kissed you roughly as he began to take you with only his fingers. He tugged off your trousers and panties with ease and swiftness. You opened your legs for him, unashamed but unable to look him in the eyes.

You knew the hunger and the pleasure from just the way he licked his lips at the sight of your wet, throbbing pussy. He laughed quietly again, planting a kiss on your clit hood. “You  _are_ excited, aren’t you, my sweet thing?”

You nodded, though you were close to screaming at the feeling of his lips move on your skin. He licked up, suddenly, and you jumped and rolled your hips into his mouth.

_Loki was giving you head!_

His deep, resonating voice felt glorious on your cunt. You were soaking wet, and you were close to begging. But you were too stubborn to let him have that satisfaction . . . yet.

“Do you need something, dear?”

Oh . . . you nod. “Yes . . . Yes, I need _you_ ,” you groan as he runs his tongue along you.

\----------

“Why are you two late?” Tony asked, glaring at the two sweaty and tired Avengers. He did have some suspicions, but (Y/N) wasn’t the type of person to do what he thought happened. Loki  _was_  though. Tony narrowed his eyes.

“Training,” you say. Sure. Of course. Limping like that was how  _training_ worked. Tony glared at Loki.

“What did you do to her.” Loki jumped and Tony knew that he caught him. “You guys know that that’s not cool. Only thirty minutes before dinner? Did you even clean up?” He sighs.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, and it won’t happen again.” He was bright red. You laughed gently. Tony sighed. Did they really do that? He shook his head.

“(Y/N), sweetheart, go sit next to Thor please. Loki? Next to Capsicle.” They both gaped. You grumbled but complied. Loki did too. Tony smirks. Kids.

They bickered across the table. Something about a bra? He didn’t know if he was listening right, but they seemed cute together. Tony chuckled. Vision must have been doing laundry again.

And if that’s what it took for them to realize their feelings for each other, he’d have to thank him.

END.


	27. Insufferable

“You know,” Loki says to you, a maid who served in the palace, “you should all wear shorter dresses.” His words were spoken with a certain silkiness that he knew enchanted you; his large, warm hands held your shoulders gently, his face close to yours. He probably didn’t even know your name, but you were always his favorite to pick on.

And vice versa.

“All of us, my lord? Or just me?” You smirked as you cleaned a grail, seeing your reflection in it. You saw Loki’s grin fall through the golden goblet’s surface. Oh. So you  _were_ a genius, calling him out. His arms snaked around your chest. He pulled you close to him.

“Do you always see through my jests, darling?” He affectionately brushed a whisp of hair off your cheek with his knuckle. “It’s almost like you’re another me. . . . You’re insufferable.” He nuzzled your face.

“Your Majesty,” you laugh. “I’m just doing my job.” He kissed in between your eye and ear. You giggled.

“Sweetheart, please, you won’t be doing that job for very long, anyway,” he says. “Not as long as  _I_  have anything to do with it.” He held your hand. “Unless, (Y/N), my lovely, you’re messing with my heart.”

“My lord?” You leaned against his chest. At least he knew your name. Maybe he knew other things too. Like your secret feelings for him. . . .

“Oh, don’t tell me you didn’t know I fancy you. A little more than that, actually.” You shook you head, blushing at the confession. You hoped to the Norns it wasn’t a joke.

“What, my prince?” You swallowed, heart thumping. You turned in his arms, setting the goblet down. Loki set his hands on your waist, smiling brightly. He had a dazzle in his eyes, and it wasn’t the kind of dazzle that told you he was up to something. He was happy. Beyond it, actually.

“I love you, (Y/N); why do you think I was in such a hurry to get my parents to announce I was taking a wife?”

“I . . . I honestly just thought it was a coming of age thing,” you said, swallowing. You smiled at Loki, a little shy. “Did you really plan on marrying me?”

“I still do, if you’ll have me,” he says quietly, kissing your eyelid, your cheek, your nose. You nodded, blinking back happy tears. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes . . . It is.” You smiled brightly. “I love you.”


	28. It’s Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU

_Loki stepped into the shadows of the forest, holding his breath and melting into his armor. He wasn’t sure if it was even worth it to go into the Forest of Ydraggsil. But the cosmos were born there, in the “branches” he had been taught about. Loki knew that the answer to his very soul was written in the songs the_ _ruffling_ _leaves sang. His heart hammered in his rib cage as he let out a shaky breath._

_He scratched his palms with worry, closing his eyes in thought. He could prove that he was his brother’s equal . . . worthy of being more than just a_  Jotun.  _No matter what Odin had said, no matter what Frigga said, he was just not what either of them said. He couldn't be what Frigga had thought he was. He wasn’t even close enough to be as good as she thought. He was much more than Odin had said. Loki could prove that. He just needed to know. . . ._

_Would it be worth it if he couldn’t?_

Child,  _a beautiful voice of the Norns whispered. That startled him. The Norns were silent, spoke in riddles and curses. But he could just. . . . Tell. He hadn’t expected to hear that. She continued,_  What brings you to where souls are born and fate is scripted?

_Loki swallowed, stepping in to the wood. “Uncertainty,” he says meekly, eyes welling with tears. “And losing the will . . . the will to live.” He sank to his knees. “I beg of you, help me find my place in the world.”_

_He knew that it was selfish to ask the Norns to give him things, things that not even they could change. He would be cursed for such confident brattiness. He held his head high in the sky, watching the cosmos conflict, purple and blue and green explode and tear at each other. Green smoke curled around his body. Loki had to refrain from panicking, trying his hardest not to scream in fear, not to sob from the pain of his broken soul._

_The leaves rustled. He breathed deeply, his heart rate painfully fast. His neck hurt from the rush of blood. His heart kept crying out in the lonely longing for companionship._

Just a place in the world? Nothing else?  _She sounded. . . . Expectant. Like men who had braved the branches before had always asked for proud things. Wisdom; strength; a lady’s hand. Loki just wanted not to be alone._

_A tear slips from his eye. “Give me my glory back. . . . Give me someone who will love me. . . .”_

Loki Laufeyson,  _the Norns whispered with a reassuring tone,_  you’ll find someone who loves you. It’s fate.

_Loki swallowed, gasping some. That was a lie; wasn’t it? It had to be. He wiped his eyes. He sat there, staring at the ground. One day, he would. One day. He tried to swallow his fears. But it didn’t work._

_The cosmos rippled again, a woman’s laugh ringing through his ears. Not the Norn who had spoke, it wasn’t Hers. This laugh. . . . It stung. Loki covered his ears. No one he cared for loved him back. He started to hyperventilate. The laughing got louder and louder._

_No. No. “Please. . . . Make it stop,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. The smoke curled around his body. His skin turned blue._

“You’re a dirty, evil Jotun,”  _Thor’s voice taunted somewhere. Loki stood, looking around for his brother._ “Did you really believe that the Norns would help  _you_?”

_“Stop this illusion!” he pleaded. Loki spun around, hoping to find something. This had to be a lie. “Stop!”_

“What illusion, my son? You’re seeing the truth,”  _Odin called, coming from a different direction. He turned toward the sound, hoping that his father wouldn’t scoff at him, punish him. Tears fell faster. Streamed. His father’s cold voice._

_“Father—,” Loki tried, caving in and panicking._

“I’m  _not_  your father!”  _Loki flinched, raising his arms in protection as he stumbled back from the invisible people pushing him._

_“No!” Loki cried. “NO!”_

\---------- -*- ----------

I sat bolt right up in my bed, chest heaving and sweat drenching my body. I looked over to my side. A beautiful woman. My panic melted quickly, but my fears didn’t. I was next to my fiancée. She gently pushed me back down.

“Loki, shhh,” she soothed. “It was all a dream. You’re safe.” I rested my head on her shoulder. She ran her hands through my hair affectionately.

“Oh, Bryleigh,”  **(Bry-lee)** I sigh, hugging her gently. “It was the same dream as last time. . . . With th-the forest . . . you have no idea—”

Her hazel eyes and blonde hair were strangely lit from the moonlight in the window. I had never been more grateful for her. I sigh again, kissing her once, twice, three times. Bryleigh pulled away, resting her forehead against mine.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep. I love you,” she said, rubbing my back. “We have to both work tomorrow, so we should go back to sleep.” I nodded in agreement. I would have to explain to my secretary, (Y/N) why I was late.

Oh, no. I sat up. I practically scrambled to get dressed. “Honey, what are you doing?” Bryleigh asked. I checked my cellphone. Truly a magical mortal instrument, the cellular telephone. 2:35. I still had thirty minutes.

“Picking (Y/N) up at the airport,” I said, my tongue between my teeth as pull on a shirt. “I lost a bet, so I had to chauffeur her  _to_ and  _from_ her flight.” I laughed, face hot from remembering her smile. Oh, (Y/N) was adorable. Like my little sister. And I didn’t have to actually chauffeur her; I just wanted to. But Bryleigh wouldn’t have let me.

“Wait; the trip she went on that you funded for her birthday? You spoil her, Loki,” she says, voice riddled with distaste. She sat up in bed. I rolled my eyes.

“Bryleigh, she’s going to be my best woman.” I pulled on my shoe and grabbed my keys on the nightstand. “You better get used to the godmother of your children being around my house.” Bryleigh gaped, looking at me with an offense with an origin I couldn’t place.

“What?” I ask.

“Since when is that  _bi_ _—_ _”_  I cut her off, giving her a glare. Good feeling gone. I truly adored my fiancée, but I simply could not stand it when she picked on (Y/N). Especially when she did that.

“Biiiiii-eautiful woman I have adopted as my sister,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “I’m sick of you acting like a jerk to her.”

Bryleigh flopped back down. I kissed her forehead goodbye. “If you loved me, Loki, you’d see she's just evil!” She smiled softly and tiredly. I rolled my eyes.

“Evil? That  _is_ a new one,” I comment, kissing her and rushing out the door. Before our bedroom door closed, I heard her scoff. Something in me stirred, both at the thought of Bryleigh making nasty statements about (Y/N), and (Y/N) herself.

\-----skip-----

“ _Flight from [_ ** _Place you've wanted to visit_** _] now unloading at Platform 9._ _”_

The PA announcements seemed to fly by since the time I got there, but that one I paid attention to. I was almost eager to find her. I was speeding past every person I passed, even doing 360s to see if I could locate her. Her smile, her hands, ruffling her hair.

I passed through crowds, hearing the TSA yelling at someone, kids crying—or was it the other way around?— and twisting and weaving through people to Platform 9. “Where could she be?” I whisper to myself.

Something about all this turning reminded me about going to the Forest of Ydraggsil. But without all the fright; just really confusing and overwhelming and something missing. I didn’t mind. My heart was pounding with excitement. (Y/N) would be in this building somewhere.

“Loki!” I heard her call. I got reminded of my dream, but it didn’t scare me as much as it should have.

I whipped around, beaming when I saw her. She had a rolling suitcase and messy hair; she must have fallen asleep on the plane. I ran to her, lifting her up. She dropped her suitcase as I held her. I spun her with glee.

“You missed me that much, Loki?” She wrapped her arms around my neck, standing closely when I set her down. It was probably because my arms were still around her. (Y/N)’s hands rested within my elbows as she unwrapped her arms.

“Of course, I missed you. Who do you take me for?” I laughed softly, my head spinning slightly as I realized just how tired I was. I also realized that I didn’t care. About anything.

I didn’t care about how mad I had made Bryleigh. I didn’t care about the time. I just wanted. . . .

Oh, no.

But I just couldn’t stop  _smiling._ (Y/N) was the only thing I could see. I was here, with her, no where else.

“I kinda took you for a stubborn prince,” she joked, hands moving again to my shoulders. “You know, the kind that didn’t pick favorites without doing it  _so_  subtly, and throwing knives, and doing favors reluctantly.  _Not_ picking up your secretary because she asked you to at three in the morning and taking you away from your fiancée.”

“I don’t care what she thinks,” I blurt. She blushed, and so did I. But I stupidly kept going. “I don't want to marry her.”

She stepped out of my arms. “Loki, what are you talking about?” I grew idiotically confident, taking her hands. “Loki?”

“I was such a fool,” I laugh, looking at her. I press the heel of my hand to my forehead. “I’m not in love with _her_.”

It was all clicking into place, now. The constant dreams of looking for her. The wedding dreams, too, with her in white. It wasn’t just paranoia. And all the times I would feel that awful knot in my gut when she spoke of other men. I gaze into her eyes.

“It’s you.”

She shook her head, “Loki, I — I can’t just—”

“(Y/N) you can’t pretend that you don’t feel this,” I continue. I bring her luggage out with her. “Actually, it all makes sense now.” But as much as I’m grinning, she’s only standing in shock.

“Darling?”

**Your** **POV**

Okay. Seeing Loki was already amazing. But now you were sure that one of you had gone crazy, or that you were dreaming.

“What? Loki, you can’t just  _say_  things like that!” You felt your face heat up at the delirious Loki’s practically random confession. Your hands and legs were shaking. Yes, you loved him, too, but what about Bryleigh? They had sent wedding invitations already!

“Why not? Better now than in a month, (Y/N),” he said. He opened the door for you. You got in his car. He definitely looked crazed, loopy. But he was happy.

You study him for a second, a thought coming to light almost immediately. He seemed carefree, distracted. He revved up the engine and grinned at you. You knew exactly what he seemed like to you, now that you thought on it.

He was like a bachelor.

“You  _didn’t_!” you gasp. “You didn’t break up with her, did you?!”

“No, but I will. Even if you decide you don’t want me as a friend or a romantic partner. The only person who I can imagine marrying would be you.” He laughs, driving you to your house. You gape at Loki. He really had gone mad.

Not only was he head over heels with you out of the blue, he thought he would marry you. Or, at least he wanted to. Your heart sank.

It all made sense now.

“Loki,” you say quietly. “I’m seeing Steve. From economics.” You ducked your head. He loved you. And you couldn’t see him as anything more than a friend, or a brother. You fiddled with your shirt’s hem.

Loki frowned some, but quickly regained his smile. Except it was fake. You could tell so easily. You shifted in the passenger seat, watching cars pass by. “Oh,” he whispers. “I understand.” You hated this, but you really preferred not to lie.

“I’m so sorry, Loki,” you mumbled. You hugged yourself. You wanted him happy, but you couldn’t be with him. It was the worst kind of lie. “We became an item about three weeks back but I asked him to keep quiet about it. I didn't want to cause any gossip.”

Loki nodded. “No, I totally understand. . . . I was meant to be alone. It’s fate.” His bottom lip quivered. You felt your heart break for your best friend. Then you wondered if he had been dreaming again. He had nightmares that Bryleigh made worse, and you were the only one he could tell them about.  _Really_  tell. You felt warm inside. He really was in love with you. 

“Loki—,” you try.

“My immortal life was just . . . the worst. Now my mortal one is mirroring it,” he sighs. He gripped the wheel. Tightly. You saw his knuckles turn paper white. “I became cursed by the Norns. I made a mistake.”

“Loki, please, I am sure that you will find someone who will love you,” you try. You felt something in the back of your head tell you that this was a mistake, letting him go. But it was fate. You knew it. Loki was someone you felt for in the past. Never again.

“You know who I want,” he says. “This time, I won’t settle for something lesser.” He stared at the road. “I’m not getting any younger.”

_Something lesser?_

“Loki, really,” you sigh, “I’m not fantastic.”

“Steve sure thinks you are.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You growl, “That's low, even for you.” Loki doesn’t answer, just scoffing quietly.

You huff and cross your arms. Fiddle with the seat belt. “Just marry Bryleigh, okay? What do I care!” That came out harsher than you meant. Oops.

Loki pulled the car over so roughly you almost hit your head on the window. “Excuse me?” He turned to you. “What did you mean by that?” You felt your heart speed, but you had already turned him down.

“Just—take—me—home,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Tell me what that was about,” he protested. Loki rested his arm on the middle compartment, making you face him. Now you wanted to get mad at him and yourself. But he wasn’t your life, and he wasn’t ever going to be yours.

So who cared?

“It meant nothing,” you lie. “Nothing at all.” You shift in your seat, again. Look away from him. All the feelings you used to feel came rushing back, but without the affection they used to hold. You felt bitter about loving him before. A man who was engaged to be married. Now he could feel it, too. 

“Oh, sure. You never told me you didn’t want me married, (Y/N).” He had flipped a switch. He went from giddy to hurt within seconds. But saying something as sudden and intimate as _“I don’t want you to get married but I’m seeing someone else”_  would have to hurt anyone.

“Because at least you were happy, Loki!”

“I wasn’t, you knew that!”

“I don’t want to fight about your witch fiancée,” you grumble. “Take me home, Loki. I’ll resign in the morning.” You sit back, watching through the window the rest of the ride. This would need to be solved, but in what way, you didn’t know.

\------------(:V)------------

_Y_

_ou_ _stepped out into a clearing. You saw Loki dressed in his armor—something he hadn’t worn since New York. Green smoke billowed around your feet. You couldn’t move anything, no matter how much you tried to run and help him. He was screaming about being sorry, apologizing to whomever was laughing and telling him he’d never know love._

_You couldn’t scream. Couldn’t get him. You wanted him._

“Please, I just want someone—!”  _He was cut off by his own cry of fright. He fell to the ground. You hated feeling so helpless. No. No, you needed to help him. The smoke surrounding the both of you covered Loki, and then_ —  
  


You sat up, horrified. You were going to be late. Loki would—

Loki. Right. You had fought with him the night before. He probably wouldn’t want to see you. . . . Unless that was a dream. Again. You sigh. No matter what you had told him last night, you weren’t seeing Steve. And you were in love with him.

You picked up the phone. There was only really one thing to do.

“Hello?” he answered tiredly. He sounded like someone who had been crying, or losing significant amounts of sleep. He also had a tone of worry in his voice. You felt your heart skip.

“I love you,” you say. You were rushing to get the wires out. “I don’t want you to marry Bryleigh. I’m sorry for everything I told you last night and I don’t care if you remember none of it; you deserve to know. I’m in love with you, I always have been, Bryleigh is and always was someone who was just so much better than I am, and even though I think you two can be happy together, I want you to myself!”

Just before you hang up from fear of his long silence, he says, “Wait, wait. You said you were seeing Steve. . . . I’m so confused. . . . Bryleigh walked out last night, calling the wedding off, anyway. I’m not getting married.”

You sat there for a minute. “What? Why?”

“Apparently I spent more time talking about you than she liked,” he explained. “But I’m not sure if I should anymore?”

“No. No, Loki, that’s great. I mean—it’s not great, but you didn’t have to break up with her. . . . I just . . . spent so long thinking about what you said. You were right: it is fate.”

He sniffs on the other end. “You picked a fantastic time to tell me, (Y/N).” He laughed. “For the record: I think you’re right. It  _is_  fate.”


	29. Bookstore Hire

“(Y/N)? Did we get that new order of books yet?!”  _your manager, Mrs. Bind yelled. You weren’t sure if you want to laugh or cringe at her name: she ran a bookshop. She was a little old lady with thick glasses and dark skin who always wore her white hair up in a bun. She always had these awful necklaces and earrings and a golden bracelet. She was probably ninety years old, her husband dead five years now._

“N-No, Mrs. Bind!”  _you stutter from behind the shelves,_  “Not yet! M-Mr. Heimdall at the post office—h-he said the order of books won’t be in until n-next week.”  _You were shaking. You knew that she was going to ask about your college classmate, next. The tall one who wore green sweaters and had his hair brushed back._

_Originally, you assumed he liked boys, but he said he liked both when you asked. You don’t even remember how you managed to scrape that much courage. Maybe that was when you weren’t that attracted to him. He had laughed and congratulated you on your observations, but politely disproved them. You blushed when you remembered his smile as he said that._

“What about our new hire?”  _she squawked. You brushed your hair out of your face, stepping out. You blushed severely at the thought of the “new hire.” Your friend probably pulled your leg about wanting a job. You didn’t go through paperwork; Mrs. Bind did. You had no clue if it was really him._

“H-He hasn’t shown up yet, Mrs. Bind,”  _you say quietly. You weren’t positive you wanted him to, either. As soon as you said this, the chime on the door jingled. His deep, boyish laugh filled the room. Your stomach sank to your hips and your legs shook. Mrs. Bind winked at you. Oh, no. She smirked. You shook your head._

_Mrs. Bind grinned and made her way over. You watched as she disappeared to the front of the shop. You hoped your friend knew that you weren’t going to be happy when you saw him. Stupid Odinson. Him and his stupid muscles and hair he refused to cut._

_Your heart sped up. You squeezed your eyes shut. He was really here. Oh, dear. You ran your hands through your hair, smoothing out your shirt and trying to stop blushing. Stupid Odinson!_

“Thank you for accepting my job application, Mrs. Bind,”  _you hear him say, and you ducked back behind the shelves. A tingle goes down your spine. The old woman laughed._

“Of course, dear,”  _she said._  “Lucky, isn’t it?”  _Not lucky for you. Not at all. You may have liked him, maybe even thought about him sometimes. His brother was adorable and annoying, too._

“Yes. My friend Darcie didn’t know if I would be able to make it,”  _he said. You growled quietly under your breath. You knew why he was here._ “And it’s Loki, ma’am.”  _You were going to die._

 _He just jokingly sassed your_ boss!

“Oh, whatever, honey!”  _she laughed._ “(Y/N) is somewhere in the shelves, dear, she’ll help you. I got to do work back in the office. Behave!”

 _Loki laughed and thanked her, heading your way. You saw him turn, that trash-eating grin plastered on his face. Your eyes widened and you tried to hide._  “Where did she hide?”  _he mused quietly. He steps slowly, his feet hitting the ground softly._

_You moved to the children’s fiction, and he spotted you. You cursed silently, moving father down. Loki followed suit. You went to the next aisle. Loki follows again. You ducked through the romance shelves. You evaded him about six times before he finally caught you._

_Loki smirked when you bumped into his chest. You swallow, a weight falling on your chest._  “Hello, dear.”  _He grinned._ “Looks like you’re my boss, (Y/N), darling.”

\-------------------- tђє ภєאt ﾓ๏ยг yєคгร— _ฬเภtєг_  -------------------

Loki came into the shop, holding a box of books. His coat was on his arms, balancing two paper cups on the box. He had a black scarf on, his nose and ears red. “Good morning,” he says, setting them down at the door. He looked at you cheerfully, peeking at you between books. You didn’t want to talk to him. Actually, you wanted to avoid him like the plague. You couldn’t exactly do that.

Loki had played you so hard, but he was still pursuing you. You closed your eyes, trying to be brave. Asked you to dinner a couple of times, kissed you a  _lot_ , but he had been with another woman. Jane Foster. He had the audacity to keep working here. You wanted to leave, but no where else could pay you this much and still be this close to home. And you couldn’t move houses. Not yet.

“How are you, flower?” Loki asked, setting cocoa in your hands. You felt your heart do a funny thing. Beat faster, twist, feel warm but so sharp and painful.

“It’s n-none of your business,” you mutter. You look at the drink in your hands, tucking your hair back. You turned back to your books, setting the cocoa down on a milk crate. You looked back at him. He stepped over, his ears pink from the cold and his scarf still around his neck.

Loki looked you over. He smirked as he did so, tracing your jaw. His stupid green sweater-dressed butt was going to get whooped if he touched your again. But he was making you so nervous. Your heart thumped in your chest. He was too close.

Again.

“M-Maybe the fact y-you asked me to be yours and you s-still won’t take me?” You felt tears swell up again. You were sure you hadn’t fallen that hard for Loki, but it seems like you were wrong. You still cared very deeply for him. You made yourself look him in the eye. His smirk fell. Loki seemed to remember what happened about four weeks ago.

“Okay,” he says, caught off guard. He stepped away. You turn and go back to your shelves. “I’ll give you that.” He cleared his throat.

He followed you back. You started to sort, and he did the same. Loki sat in front of the shelf you were restocking. He looked at you from the books. You glare at him, wiping your red, teary eyes.

“(Y/N). (Y/N), you know I didn’t . . . ,” Loki tried, but trailed off. He sighs. You shove a book in front of his face. He pushed it out. You picked it up, shoving it back in. Loki shoved it out again, saying, “You never let me explain myself. My future—the one I  _want_ —is entirely built off of you. Written for you. I love you, so if you could just listen, I’ll tell you what happened with Jane.”

“I don’t care if you were innocent, Loki, I heard you t-talking to her, I know what happened.” You stood. You took your cocoa. You thought about dumping it, but it was perfectly good. But Loki had bought it. . . .

“I was talking with her about y—about things.” Loki blushed. He wiped his face. “What exactly did you hear?”

“That you were going to take a ‘ _certain someone_  to a trip to ( **place you’ve wanted to visit** ) and spoil her rotten’? That you’d  _marry_  her?” You glared at him, feeling a lump in your throat. You’d never felt braver. Loki picked the wrong girl to use. “You’re probably saving up to take Jane there! You’ve probably proposed, too!”

You turned around, picking up another couple books. You shook your head, angry. You shouldn’t have loved him this much. But you couldn’t stop it.

“I am saving up,” Loki says behind you. Your heart sunk. You spun to put the books on the shelf, but you almost dropped them.

Loki was on one knee, holding a thin, golden wedding band, like the one you pointed to in a magazine you had shown him a year and a half ago. It was engraved with Nordic knots and designs, spiraling and turning until they wrapped around a tiny diamond. Simple and special. Perfect.

You set the books down, tears springing to your eyes faster than they had when you thought about him and Jane. Oh. . . .

“But not for her,” he continued, voice softer than velvet. You shook your head in disbelief, covering your mouth. “I was going to take you and do this there, but I suppose . . . now may be the only time I can.” He looks at you, then at the ground, nervous. Loki was  _never_  nervous.

“I won’t ask again if you want nothing to do with me, (Y/N), but. . . . Will you marry me?” He cracked a soft smile.

You weren’t sure how to make you voice or body work. Loki couldn’t be serious. “I —” Your voice stopped. You stepped back.

“I was talking with Jane about my plan to propose. I had no idea you were listening.”

“B-B-But what about the giggling a-and the quiet talking?” A tear falls down your face. You were sick of crying, but this time you weren’t mad or miserable. Just  _happy_.

“Darcie was sleeping. She was amused by my ‘overly romantic’ attempt.” Loki’s face was dusted with pink. “What do you say?”

You got down on your knees and hugged him tightly. “Yes. . . . Yes, of course I will.” You sniffled some, laughing. “I’ll marry you.”


	30. I Didn’t Fake That

Your new favorite comfort was the rain.

You sat on the balcony, grateful for your weather and water powers for once. It poured down all over New York, down your shirt, down your hair, soaking everything. Natasha and Steve consoled you about your loss. You hoped that he would be back, but he had said that he didn't know himself.

Tony checked on you every hour. Clint showed you how to clean arrows. Bruce let you talk to him. The one who couldn't really help you out was Thor. He was the only one who felt this probably more than you did. He had went back to Asgard. You wished you could leave it all, too. But you had to stay.

If he did come back, you weren't sure how you would greet him. But this time, in your heart, you knew it was permanent.

The rain hit your shoulders harder. You closed your eyes, letting the water rinse your face from the salt the tears had left. You missed your husband. Your heart ached. It had been weeks, and no one knew how much you hurt. Except maybe one person. . . .

"Come home," you whispered to him through the pouring rain. "Please. . . ."

Two little feet pattered over to you. You opened your eyes, trying to be brave for the baby girl who was running into the balcony. Your daughter comes up to you, her blue eyes and raven hair just like her father. "Momma?"

"Yes, baby?" You stood, trying to let go of the rain. You held her up. She wrapped her arms around your neck.

"I drew a picture for you inside," she says. She smiled sadly. You tried not to cry, again. You seemed to be a bawl baby, now. "Of Daddy. I know Daddy will be back."

"Oh, yeah?" You smiled softly, thumbing her cheek endearingly. She was everything to you, and everything you had left of him. "How is that, baby?"

"Because he told me." She turned red, blushing a bit. She had his pale skin. "Daddy said he wants to come home . . . but he doesn't know how, yet." Your heart jumped. Had your daughter seen a ghost? Or had a vision?

"Why is that?"

"Because he said that you wouldn't be happy to see him. You'd be mad."

Your fears solidified. "Well," you mutter under your breath, now getting angry. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, Momma, he said he was waiting for the right time." She looked so innocent. You knew her father loved her more than anything, his greatest love your baby. The only thing that he loved on the same level used to be you.

But after what your daughter said, you knew better. Loki had never loved you. He had used you to complete the mission you all worked five years on.

"Run inside, baby," you tell her. "Momma needs to think about something for a little bit. Don't worry."

"Okay!" she says, rushing back in on her little legs.

You swallow your angry scream. He had lied! He lied about everything. About loving you. About being dead. Hell, he just used you. You stood, gripping the railing of the balcony. You thought he had  _changed_. You sobbed, trying to stifle it. Your heart felt like it was shredded inside your chest.

Your tears hit the railing as they rolled off your wet cheeks. You could taste the bitter salt. You didn't want to let him go. You wanted him here. But he had lied, after everything you had gone through.

"Faker," you cursed. You stared at your white knuckles for a long time.

You felt arms wrap around your shoulders. You whimpered angrily. The hands held you gently, the owner's face nuzzling your neck. You stiffen.

"I'm sorry. . . ."

"You're a faker."

"Listen, I —"

"Faker! You never—you didn't —!" You couldn't finish, only react. You pushed him away. Loki looked hurt. You were in an unforgiving mood.

Loki moved toward you. You hit him when he tried to cup your face. You smacked him and punched him and cried harder than ever. Loki wrapped his arms around after he blocked your swings every time, embracing you.

You didn't hug back; you clung to him like the life you used to have was going to be destroyed. "Liar," you cry, "liar, liar, liar!"

Loki patted your hair. "I did lie," he said. "To keep you safe. And I might have truly died . . . darling, I was wrong about everything . . ."

You hit his arms again, sinking to the ground. Your knees refused to work.

Loki sank with you, rocking you gently. "I did lie about my death. I did fake us, at first. But when I asked you to marry me . . . when we were wed . . . I didn't fake that."

You shook your head, shaking in his arms. "I hate you," you say, crying hard. "I hate you."

Loki kissed your head. "Yes, I know. And I can't come home, yet. The Greeks made me hold up their sky after I . . . I killed someone. I can never come home. I'm sorry."

You looked at him with streaming eyes. "Greeks?"

Loki nodded, already disappearing. "In ten thousand years, you'll be my wife again. After I-I save us all." You tried to grab at him again, but he was gone, leaving you broken on the ground.

Loki was gone.

And you missed him more than when he was dead.


	31. Friends Forever

Once upon a time—basically, who knows when—some scumbag decided to unlock the true potential of love and use the emotion at its full capacity: uncontrollable magic that immediately found your soulmate. Loki knew about this of course. All Asgardians and Vanir did.

They were the same species, after all. Every other species in the Nine Realms knew of this. All except for the humans.

The insignificant little humans. What did they know? They didn’t believe in magic, and frankly, didn’t believe anything that they were told without proof. An entire planet of unbelievers who held morals so close to their hearts that they didn’t think even love itself could exist. Very few had lifetime marriages.

Loki knew of the mechanics of Asgardian love. Man or woman falls in love with someone, and that person, if they were compatible, would fall just as quickly. Then, for the rest of their lives, they would be in love. Loki wanted that. He wanted someone to love him like that. He was sure of it.

In fact, he was sure that he knew that if he  _ever_ fell for you, it would only be a matter of seconds before you fell for him in return.

Probably like right now.

Right now, you were reading a book in the library with your favorite necklace beside you. It kept getting caught in your hair. Loki watched, hidden in the bookshelves. He smirked to himself as he thought of a new way to get you back for the constant pranks.

You gently moved the necklace, feeling the chain. Loki tiptoed toward you. He very expertly moved his arms around your neck. “Hello, sweetheart,” he teased, resting against your chair.

“Loki, what are you doing?” you asked, still reading. You looked back at him, eyes sparkling with humor. Loki grinned his usual trash eating grin, looking over your shoulder.

“Can’t I hug my best friend, (Y/N)?” he asked, playing with your hair. You scoffed quietly, reading again and resting on you in return. Loki stood there, enjoying your weight for a few minutes more, before letting you go and looking at what he really wanted.

He waited until you moved in your seat, then snatched the jewelry. You stood, beet red and pissed off.

Loki grinned again, holding the necklace in one hand and gently stepping back toward the door. You gently lifted your skirts, moving after him. His smile fell and he turned, bolting for the door.

“Loki! Come back here!” you shouted angrily, running after him, slipping off your shoes halfway through the hall. Loki laughed—almost shrieked— gleefully, running faster and faster. He passed his brother, but ducked behind Thor in a hurry.

“No!” he yelled back, hiding behind a very exasperated Thor’s cape. You skidded to a stop, moving around Thor to get him. He moved away faster than she could manage.

Thor grabbed both yours and Loki’s collars, holding the two of you with a dead look on his face. “Give it back.” He looked at him with a dead annoyance.

“Yeah, Loki, give it back!” you huff. “Stealing isn’t dignified.” You looked really pretty . . . Loki blinked and almost felt compelled to drop the pendant into your hand. He sometimes forgot that you were the goddess of truth.

“Well, dear, I wasn’t trying to be dignified, I was trying to be petty,” Loki says to you, chuckling some. He felt soft inside, like he was made of burning wool.

“You are the worst friend in the world,” you declare, crossing your arms when Thor set the two of you down. He chuckled, dangling the necklace above your head again. You tried to go after him again. Loki pushed her against the wall.

“I’m your best friend.” Loki put the necklace around your neck. You looked at him, arms snaking around  _his_  neck. He laughed softly, resting his forehead against yours. You grin.

“Are you sure about that, Loki Odinson?” you whispered. Loki shrugged.

“Only that I’d like to be more,” he said quietly, kissing you softly. You kissed back, and he smiled against your mouth happily.

Thor gagged. Loki pulled back and laughed loudly. “You’re just jealous.” He barely had time to see Thor’s reaction before you pulled him back in for another kiss.

Yes, Loki knew the mechanics of Asgardian love. He knew that he was head over heels with you. He loved you. Loki thought, just for a moment, that perhaps that scumbag was onto something. . . .

But after all, who cared?

(( ** _SHORT!_**   **Just a silly drabble**  😋))


	32. Imperfect Composure

_**You came from a destroyed world, your father a human who died to protect you and your mother gone with your world. Nick Fury, director of SHIELD, has finally tracked you down...with a proposal to keep you out of public eye, but with the promise of help to learn to control your powers.** _

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Nick Fury knocked on your door. You were almost as surprised that he found out where you lived as much as you were when he said he wanted to recruit you to his "special" group of agents-like the Avengers, but low profile and more talented than the other Agents that Phil Coulson was on charge of.

Basically advanced Avengers.

"Excuse me, sir . . . ?"

"I want you to join, Miss (Y/L/N)."

"You want me to join. Who else is in this group, exactly?" The story was that if you trained hard enough, you could be an Avenger eventually. That sounded intriguing, but everything else did not. You didn't feel like your powers were going to be useful. Your telekinesis got out of hand when you were nervous . . . you didn't want to hurt someone.

"Just two people. Loki Odinson and Peter Parker." He crossed his arms. You thought about shutting the door and refusing him. But Loki Odinson sounded . . . intriguing.

A man who singlehandedly killed 80 people by himself and still found a way to try and do good with what he loves. Someone you could trust everything but nothing with. But he could hurt you. A mind reader.

Your chest felt like it would implode. You ignored it because you needed a job. You sigh.

"B-but with my powers-," you tried to explain, worried.

"Revealing truth and telekinesis are  _exactly_  what we need." Fury smiled. "We'll come by at 0800 hours tomorrow morning for your answer. Have a nice day, Miss (Y/L/N)."

You nod, ready to shut the door, but the braver part of you blurted, "I'll do it."

Fury smirked. "Well." He shifted and crossed his arms. You swallowed.

_**Two weeks later; you had trained, but you hadn't met anyone in the team yet. One was on a mission with his brother, and the other was still in school. Finally, Nick Fury decided that you were worthy enough to meet the other two.** _

"Odinson; Parker! You gotta new partner!" Fury's voice boomed from the front of the room. You hid yourself in the changing room. Your suit felt funny, like it was a second skin. You couldn't lift it with your powers. You wondered how they made it like that.

"Ooh! Really?" a young, high voice said excitedly. "Whassee like?"

"He's probably some stuck up nobody," suggested a deep, chocolatey voice. The owner was British, sounding bored with the suggestion already. It made your face burn, the voice.  _Odd_.

" _She_ is probably eager to meet the both of you," Fury said, mocking the owner of the voice you liked. "Either that, or terrified. Be nice to her."

You opened the door shyly, ducking your head as you walked into the training room. You were surprised to see two attractive faces: One who was not much older than you, and one who was probably your age.

"(Y/N) (L/N), aged 20 and a new agent," Fury introduced you. You looked up, smiling nervously. Your heart beat rapidly. Both boys were attractive. You didn't quite expect that. Something tugged in your stomach. You realized something a little too late: your powers activated.

"She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," the taller of the two said. He owned the chocolate voice. He clapped a hand over his mouth. The younger stared at him widely. You wanted to apologize, but your tongue was glued down in your mouth.

"Whoa, dude, you  _don't_ talk like that." He swallows, bouncing on the balls of his feet and exhaling sharply. "That might be the most truthful thing you've ever said."

Fury laughed. "Looks like Mr. Odinson was the first to fall under your powers, Miss (L/N)." He claps the raven-haired boy's shoulder, and you swore that the man tried not to hiss viciously at the physical contact.

"Who  _IS_  she, Fury?!" he yelled, angry. You clapped a hand over your mouth, never minding you did the same thing the tall boy did.

"She's your new partner, Loki, so shut up." He stood straight. "I want you to all get along, got it? No fighting, no maiming. No being rude."

Loki glared at you darkly, but nodded. " _Fine_."

**_Six months later; Odinson picked on you as much as he could out of Peter and_ ** **_Fury's_ ** **_eyes. The things he said hurt, and you couldn't help but try not to make something explode...Loki was going to hurt._ **

“You’re absolutely worthless,” he spat in your ear when Peter turned during your break. Tears pricked in your eyes. You held your breath.

You wished that you didn’t fall in love with his danger. He was so kind, in his own way, to everyone but you. You weren’t sure what he did to you. You tried not to let his words affect you. It never worked.

Loki kept going. “You’re probably what caused your planet’s destruction. No control . . . no drive. You just hurt, hurt, hurt. You’re not just imperfect.” He gripped your shoulder painfully. “You’re a monster.” He let go of you, walking back to the others with a smile.

You felt your legs shake and your lips quiver. Your world was breaking. Why?

Because you  _were_. All you did was hurt. Your illegal birth was the undoing of your home. Your power was uncontrollable, your telekinesis causing things to explode and meteors to come hurtling down from the sky.

“I know,” you say, just loud enough for Loki and the others to turn to you. You were shaking, your control weakening.

“Wha—?”

“I KNOW!” you shouted, turning and running away before something imploded or sent shrapnel. Loki’s jaw dropped. You bolted out the door. Never. Never, never, never was this a good idea!

**Loki POV**

“You didn’t tell her anything, did you?” Parker asked slowly, glaring at me. My heart sank. I didn’t think . . . I thought she would have been stronger than that. Not so . . . fragile.

I shake my head slowly, but I winced as I realized that I was nodding. Her powers! Totally preventing my lies. I hissed in regret. “I thought I could . . . try to lie around her. . . .”

“What?  _Why?”_ Peter squawked. “Why on EARTH would you do that?!”

“Because I love her!”

“…You can’t love her,” Peter says, scoffing some. “Loki, you said mortals were beneath you—”

“Another lie. Honestly Peter, you of all would understand the fear of getting close to someone again.” He didn’t know if he sounded mean or not. He just kept hearing explosions, seeing her run.

Oops.

“Go and get her,” Fury said.

\---------+---------

 **You didn’t understand why anyone would**  
 **want to do that.**  
 **Hurt you, you thought, yeah totally.**  
 **But bring up your past? You had no clue.**  
 **You sat and shivered in your quarters.**  
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“Go  _away_ ,” you sobbed, hearing a knock at your door. Loki pounded harder.

“No, just let me in!” He sounded desperate. You were probably hurting him, too. You clutched your chest. Your powers were overwhelming.

“I can’t,” you tell him, holding in the crying as much as possible. “I can’t. I’m a monster, so much less than perfect! You were right!”

Another explosion. Yelling.

“I wasn’t right!” He jiggled the knob. “You are so much more than when I first met you and you’re much more than some kind of terror. You’re beautiful and kind and thoughtful and I love you and your imperfect composure.”

A lie, a lie. Had to be.

“I’m not worthy of love.”

“You must listen to yourself. I used to think I was lower than the devil for being a Jotun; (Y/N), I don’t care about what you can’t control.” He broke down the door, moving to your side. You flinched as he brushed his hands against yours in his way to cup your face. You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at Loki.

“But I hurt people…”

“I know you don’t want to hurt them.” He stroked your cheek, and the loud and heavy noises of your powers stripped away; you were slowly gaining control again.

“I hate you…” You sniffed and let yourself hug him. You felt all your fears melt away.

“I love you.” He kissed your cheek, holding you. “I was unfair to you.”

You said nothing else of the matter. “Just hold me…” And he did. He did for a long, long time…

**END**


	33. Only If

Loki Odinson. Prince of Asgard. He sat in the water of his bath, relaxing and holding onto the sides of the golden bathtub. His hair curled weakly from being wet. You would have stared at the man if you hadn’t had something more important than his luxury.

He was beautiful, in a way that was near frightening. Long, delicate features, like a raven, with all the cunning and twice the grace. Jet black hair, dazzling eyes. He had his head propped against the brim of the tub, candles lit all around the dark room.

You felt the urge to give in to your desires, again, like you had the last time you needed to interrupt him. A weight in your chest dropped to your gut. You swallowed. “Put your clothes on and get out the door.” You were undercover as a maid, and only Loki knew about it.

Loki turned to you, sitting up. The water sloshed with a tinkling noise. “(Y/N), dear, how many times must I remind you that I need a warning first?” He sighed. He stood, grabbing a towel. “I thought you didn’t like seeing me naked. Unless . . . That’s untrue?” Loki smirked.

You felt your face heat. “Just hurry  _up_.” You grit your teeth and avert your eyes. You loved the lavender scents he wore and bathed in. They drove you wild. Loki put on a robe, slinking toward you. A shashay of pride.

Your chest tightened when you felt his scent wafting to you. You knew he was doing it on purpose now. He wrung out his hair, twirling it into a knot. He traced your jaw, looking you over. How you hated when he did that.

“Darling, I will never speed up.” He sighed again, touching one of your locks affectionately and curiously. He smirks, cupping your chin. “You can’t just expect me to leave, can you? I’m not even decent.” He pouted fakely, going behind his curtain. You cross your arms.

This dark room smelled like his natural musk and all sorts of yummy perfumes. The golden glints made everything feel warmer, his silver tongue always so gorgeous to listen to. Perhaps, once upon a time, you might have been allowed to play this hard to get with him. Nowadays, not once would you ever be caught dead flirting or wishing for the ridiculous things he offered with just a look.

But yet you continued.

The guards poked their heads in, so you switched to using your “maid talk.” Loki could see them, too. “We need to go, my lord. This is important.” You shrugged off the want to see him more, and the rest of the childish wants involving his person.

“Patience, my Sigyn.” He winked at you when he popped out, all cleaned, dressed, and his hair slicked back and brushed. “Now what is it that is _so_  unbelievably important that you had to interrupt my bath?” He took your hand to kiss it. You ripped your fingers away from his, annoyed, but instantly regretted it.

“You’ve been summoned by King Odin, my prince,” you say, quickly remembering to bow. The guards left, and you dropped your demeanor back to normal. You looked at Loki’s shocked face.

“Oh,” he whispered. “It is important.” Loki looked at your flushed face. “Do you like my new outfit?” He laughed nervously, trying to change the subject.

Both of you were sure that Odin had found out that you weren’t really part of the staff. You were from Vanaheim. Part of the Vanir. A conspiring rebellion against Asgard.

“Do . . . Do you think that he found out about me?” you whispered quietly. Loki looked at your mouth, stepping toward you. He took your hands, squeezing them softly. He had been helping you try and change the Asgardian rule so it was fairer to the other realms. He had committed treason.

Just as you had.

“Answer me,” you pleaded, getting worried by his unusual body language. You searched his eyes. They seemed so soft, so worried. He didn’t listen, lost in thought. His eyebrow arched when he tried to say something, but nothing came from his lips. “Loki, answer me!”

He looked back and met your gaze. “Only if you kiss me, first,” he mumbled. You could barely make out his words. You didn’t want to believe he just said that. Your heart skipped.

“Loki,” you try again.

His lips hardened into a thin line. He cupped your face with both hands, then held your shoulders, then held your arms firmly with his large hands. He moved forward, pushing you against the wall. He kissed your cheek, your jaw, your neck, holding you close.

“Loki, this isn’t funny. Stop fooling around!” you quietly scold. He kissed your chin, holding your face fondly but firmly.

“I’m not fooling around,” he says quietly, surely. He kissed you once, twice, three times lightly on the mouth. This couldn’t be real. You tried not to kiss back the third time. “I’m doing something I’ve always wanted to. If he hurts you—”

“He won’t. Loki, tell me what’s really eating at you.” You push him off gently, confused. Loki didn’t . . . he couldn’t feel the same way you did.

“You,” he says. “You’ll leave me here with—with him. I want to make you mine before then. Please, (Y/N), I . . . I can’t lie forever.” He swallowed. “You can’t just expect me to leave, can you?” He laughed, again, looking like he was about to crumble. He reused a sentence from earlier, which he never did. He was really torn up about Odin’s summons.

Odin never summoned him for no reason. Never to see him. Never to do anything but scold him. He was scared most of the time, and most times, he had no reason to be frightened by his father. This time you  _both_ had reason to be scared.

“I wouldn’t,” you promise. You kiss him gently, cupping his face. “And whatever happens, I’ll be by your side.” Loki nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Yes. Yes, okay.” You took his hand. He kissed it. “Follow me. Please?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you say.

You both start to head out the door, but a guard holds you back. “You are to stay here. His Highness must be alone. Allfather’s decree.”

Loki tried to argue but you shook your head. “Of course.” Loki looked at you longingly, but walked down the halls.

Hours later, just when you wanted to start searching for him, Loki came back with hands covering a bleeding face. You stood, rushing to his side. His muffled cries for you only made you even more worried.

“Loki,” you coo, “let me see.” He gently, hands shaking, removed his hands from his mouth. You gasped when you saw his new punishment.

Sewn through his lips was a golden thread. Your eyes burned with angry tears. Not even Loki was safe from Odin’s wrath. “Can we cut it?”

Loki nodded, writing with a trembling hand on the floor with a dagger,  _Dissolving thread_. You very carefully pried the knife from his hands, putting the tip to his mouth. You cut the threads, apologizing when he cried out.

When he was cut free, you used your nature magic to heal him. “Oh, Loki . . .” You kissed his cheek. “Does it hurt, still?”

He shook his head. “No,” he says. He was quiet for a minute, letting you undress him for a bath. He was covered in sweat and blood. “I talked back to him.” He looked at the floor. “He hates me, (Y/N). He wants me to marry the princess of Vanaheim. I told him no.”

You started running the water, helping him in. His legs were cut up, too, but those would be harder to fix. He hissed as the warm water hit his legs. You caressed his face.

“Loki, don’t let him bully you,” you say quietly. He kissed you firmly.

“I would rather stay here. You’re with me.” He cupped your face. “Would you always be here?” He looked you in the eyes. “Or better yet, marry me?”

You grin. “Only if you kiss me, first.”


	34. Betrayal

“You must know by now that there’s no such thing,” Loki said to Thor in his prison, sitting quietly as Thor paced in the dungeons. The thunder god was bothered by the idea of Sif refusing his affections just before they wed. “You know; like trust. Happily ever after. True love. It’s all made up for optimistic  _fools_  like you to fall for.”

Thor rolled his eyes and growled quietly at the trickster. He was having pre wedding jitters—going on and on about how Sif might not want him any longer. Loki wasn’t allowed to attend it, either, despite Thor’s begging to Odin. “If I’m such a fool, why are you the one locked up?”

That did it. Loki shut his mouth. “…I can’t help being betrayed.” Well…he almost did help, but that was more getting tricked than encouraging the betrayal.

“You believed in love once upon a time,” Thor argued, knowing fully well what Loki was referring to. He stopped his pacing for a moment to take a look at his brother, stepping forward. Loki rolled his eyes like an adolescent. “(Y/N) does, too—”

“ _Don’t_  talk about her!” he hissed through his teeth, tensing. Her last words flashed before his eyes again. “Don’t even speak her name.”

“I may be an  _optimistic_  fool,” Thor says, a frown on his face, “but you are an   _opportunistic_  fool.” With that, he squared his shoulders, promptly leaving. The guards snickered some. Loki wanted to murder them.

Loki didn’t even think that was very humorous, sitting on the floor in a worse mood than when Thor came in. He sat and thought for a while. Maybe being in prison wasn’t so bad. He didn’t have to sit and think about…you. If he was being honest, he should have been able to see that you didn’t truly love him.

He was a bigger oaf than Thor for trusting your feelings…for returning them. He rested against his cell walls. He clutched his chest, wishing he could stop caring.

No such thing as a happily ever after. Not for him.

“Quim,” he swore softly, thinking of you. These days, it was impossible to stop. He wiped his face, standing and pacing around. Just had to move and clear his mind. Yes, that might work.

He wasn’t even trying for very hard before he had to start the acting. (Y/N) had stepped in, her dress soft and blue, the most beautiful thing in the palace, and the most dangerous; he was a little intimidated.

       

“You,” he whispered.

“Yes, me,” you say, walking up. You give him a soft smile. “You know, for a second, I almost thought you were really in love with me.” Your hair was done nicely, the jewelry you wore gifts from him. What a stab in the back. He felt sick.

“I was,” he said after a while, softly, quietly. Painfully. “I thought you were, too, but I suppose it was just desperate hoping on my part.”

You pressed your lips into a line, sucking your teeth. “I can’t tell you I ever did fall in love you. But I think I was starting to.”

“That’s the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose I should be impressed. You lied better than I ever could.” He turned, his back to you. “(Y/N), whatever you wanted from me…did you get it, in the end?”

There was a long, hurtful pause. He was having trouble keeping his emotions at bay. He may have been a monster, but even the cruelest of beasts had feelings. Finally, you answered. “No.”

“You never did tell me what it was.”

“I wanted an Infinity Stone.” He could hear you come closer to him. He held his breath, then exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes as a tear fell. He turned. You looked apologetic. “Then I wanted comfort. Physically, emotionally. A position. Finally, I realized…you might actually be worth the trouble.”

“Shame you ruined it.” He was now at the edge. You and he shared a brief moment of agony. His eyes flickered to your lips, body, hands. “Did you ever show me the real you?”

You nod slowly. “I did. I understand if you don’t want me, anymore, Prince Loki.”

His heart was crumbling from the inside out. “I don’t,” he says quietly. You looked at the floor. He didn’t care. You sighed.

“Goodbye.”

He didn’t answer. He just turned. He knew that he would never see you again. But he couldn’t stand knowing you saw the most hidden parts of him and just dropped him.

Maybe Thor was right. He was an opportunistic fool.


	35. Cute

On the day you first met him, you were pretty sure he was going to end up being a snot or something. A brat. You had absolutely no idea how he was so nice, after all the people had told you what he did.

“You might want to be careful with him,” Thor told you carefully. He lifted you up to see the very,  _very_ handsome Prince Loki. You swallowed. You were very, very young, but that hardly mattered. He wasn’t interested in you.

Dang.

You held onto Thor’s neck for support as you saw the teenage-looking boy in front of you. This guy attacked New York? Your face just warmed. After all, you couldn’t help it. Compared to literally everybody but Peter Parker (barely managing, too), you were a baby.

Loki, without looking up, scolded,  “(Y/N) Stark, I suggest you do  _not_ come any closer.” He was fiddling with a dagger and a poetry book. A true bad boy, and your thirteen year old self was barely managing to register that voice.

“Y-You’re  _Loki_?”

“Yes. And you’re Tony’s brat,” he snapped, meeting your eyes once. His blue eyes were gorgeous. You melted.

“…Did you really throw Dad out of a window?”

“Why do you wish to know?”

“Because,” you said. You were still naïve and impressionable at that age. He was practically your idol, but he wouldn’t talk to you. You had a mega-crush for about three months before you got over it and thought of him as a fellow Avenger.

When you were fourteen, you two were training partners. He insisted on taking you under his wing. You were really fine without him, but he told you, “That uppercut of yours is useless with that small wingspan.” That ticked you off.

“What’s wrong with it?” you protested. “I took down Thor; I think I’m good.” You readied yourself, irritated with the God of Mischief. He rolled his eyes.

“Thor  _let_  you win.” He drew his knives, the blades shining as much as his eyes sparkled with devilish amusement. “I won’t. That I promise you. If you want to be good, you have to beat me. For now, you’re second rate.”

So you started battling Loki. Every day. That was the only time you got to know him, and you tried to take it to your advantage. Unfortunately, you only got insults and you only floored him once. That didn’t really count because you were on your period and he was sick. He didn’t train with you for two days, relieving stress from  _you_. It felt great.

The gray walls and blue mats became almost a permanent residence outside of mealtimes and forced get togethers. Everyday you worked your butt off to be better than Loki, and it was out of sheer pride. To prove that you didn’t need him. He was wrong; you could be best.

At fifteen years old, he became less of a tease and more a taunt. Maybe that was because you looked more grown up. Or maybe, after three years, he was finally warming up to you. Whatever the case, he would find anything to pick on you for.

“I like your make up, (Y/N); I think Peter might run away from you this time,” he smirked, circling around you on the mat.

“Shut up,” you growl, swinging at him. It was only eyeliner! It wasn’t as if you were piling it on! And how did he find out about you and Peter?!

He dodged your fist. “You’re cute when you’re angry.” You try again, and he caught your arm in midair.

“Shut up!” You tackled him.

When you were sixteen, he suddenly took interest in you, following you around, telling you random facts and trivia of one of your hobbies or his. He now appeared as someone in their early twenties, not far from you yourself and was a wonderful shoulder to cry on after Peter gently broke off your young relationship.

You did everything in your power not to get embarrassed if he wanted to say somethIng sweet or clever to the ‘cutie,’ as Loki called you. He was becoming much more than a fellow Avenger, but you didn’t like him in any adolescent way, nor did you take a romantic interest.

One night, after a particularly hard training session, at around three in the morning when you both were dead tired and clearly not thinking rationally, you—after years and years—knocked him to the floor. Eighteen years old and quite finally his equal. He breathed hard under you, catching his breath.

Fighting Loki was like playing chess: you had to make sure he couldn’t make any more moves. A checkmate. At last, you did it.

He reached up and stroked your cheek with his knuckles. An intimate gesture. His breath was sweet and soft. Hypnotizing. “You’re so cute it hurts,” he mumbled, voice cracking and making you shudder. His chest heaved beneath you. His marbled, lean chest, right under your hands.

Then you realized where you were. You got up and left, afraid of seeing where it might have gone if you had really lost all thought. You went to your quarters in the Tower.

About a month later, you finally confronted him about it. “Did you let me win on purpose?” you asked. His bargain was ridiculous, and you weren’t going to do it.

“Come on, (Y/N), only if kiss me first. How many times must I say this?”

“A billion. Answer the question.”

“Kiss me.” He grinned like an idiot and stepped forward. You glared through narrow eyes at the boy—man, now, you supposed—you wasted five years of your life on…and with.

“No! Why would I?”

“You wanted to once,” he complained. He sat down next to you and leaned close. You pushed him away and hid your smile. Dummy!

“When I was too young to know any better!”

“One kiss and I answer you. Easy as cake.”

“Pie.”

“Whatever.” He turned and looked about the room. “I suppose…since you won’t _give_ me a kiss…I’ll have to steal one.”

“What in the Nine Realms is  _that_  supposed to mea—?” He did just as he said, cutting you off by pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes widened. You pushed him off. “Hey!”

“I was truly beaten by you. There. Done.” He stood up. You gaped.

“No, you don’t!” you say firmly, standing and grabbing his face to kiss him back. He went totally still. You pull away, mumbling, “…that wasn’t allowed.”

“You’re adorable,” he whispered, grinning. You smiled back.

Now, today, you weren’t going to here the end of it. You were walking down the aisle. A glistening crown on your head, you stood at the altar, your new immortality radiating off of you like a glow stick. King Thor was ready to make you the cutest wife in the world to your mischievous man, not just the cutest girlfriend.

At least, that’s what Loki said.

+-End+-


	36. Not a Trick (Final)

“Loki, you’re not going to believe this,” I say, sitting down in my chair. The room was decorated like  _Jimmy Fallon’s Late Night_ _Show_ ’s room. He looked really confused. He was looking around the room, almost terrified. “But you’ve been jumping between realities!”

“Wha—Where am I?” He looks around, standing. “Who  _are_  you?!”

“Oh, that’s easy! I’m the Author. Lupine_Phoenix.” I smile at my guest, his eyes widening some and and gasping.

“ _You_?” He shook his head. “You are the one who’s been so . . . so . . .”

“Pushy? Crazy?”

“Making me relive all those—”

“Those are one shots, babe. So. You’re Loki Odinson, son of Laufey and Prince of Asgard?” I sit up, running my hand through my hair. He relaxed a bit, an irritated face on my guest. He crossed his arms and puffed his cheeks.

“…is this some sort of game?” he asked. I shook my head.

“Nope!” I popped the  _P._  Loki looked around more.

“How did I get here?” He crossed one leg over the other. “And where’s (y/n)?” He sighed.

“Oh, her? She’s reading this right now, I hope you don’t mind.” I take a sip of some vanilla tea that magically appeared next to me. He slumps in the red couch he was in before.

“So everything I’ve been through is a lie?” He glared. “A trick?” The prince looks a little crestfallen. I run my hands through my hair.

“Not a trick.” I lean on my elbows. “I’m just the all-powerful being in this situation, and I’ve been looking through different timelines. Since you’re dead—”

“I’m _dead_?!” Loki interjected with terror.

“—I’ve been able to put you through hell much easier than the rest. And in your universe, (Y/N) doesn’t  _really_  exist! She does on Earth-1218, where people like you—the Avengers, Thanos—don’t exist. It’s truly an experience!”

“Wait…what?” The prince gawked, just barely grasping at my explanation.

“You’re cute when you’re confused.” I snap my fingers.

He shuddered. “And, you, ma’am, are terrifying.” He sat up. “Can I…go home?”

I shrugged. “I guess. This is the end, isn’t it?”


End file.
